22 Caliber
by Mackiecam
Summary: Stephanie Plum is having the week from hell. In this continuation of the series, she battles a life-threatening mysterious stalker, Vinnie's blackmail threats, Grandma Bella's "eye", and strep throat all while searching for Robin Hood. To make life more interesting, Morelli has asked Steph to look for his missing brother.
1. Chapter 1

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 10

**TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL**

**Chapter One**

Sometimes, as a bounty hunter, you feel great about your job. You bring in wife beaters, drug pushers, people threatening kids and old folks. At other times the job sucks. I'm Stephanie Plum and this is one of those times where the job just plain sucks.

"You want me to catch Robin Hood?" I yelled to Vinnie. "No way, no how. He's a modern-day legend. I'll have the whole police force against me. Give him to anyone else. Give him to Joyce Barnhardt. I don't care. Just don't give him to me."

Robin Hood, aka Roberto Mendez, is accused of stealing fifty flak vests. He then gave these stolen vests to the local police department. The police were very appreciative and would likely not have looked very hard for him. Unfortunately for Roberto, however, he was caught on a security camera both when stealing the vests and when leaving them on the stoop of the cop shop.

Most people would rather give him a sainthood than a jail sentence – including me. But now it was my job to bring him in.

"How hard will it be?" asked Lula. Lula is the office file clerk and my sometimes sidekick. She's a plus size woman in a petite size wardrobe. A former 'ho, her clothes haven't kept up with her change in profession, frequently testing the limits of spandex. Today she was wearing a gold sequined top which struggled to contain her girls with a Day-Glo orange skirt that had a hemline two inches below her doodad and four-inch spike-heeled slut shoes. Her chocolate skin is a perfect foil for her vibrant hair. Today her hair was orange to match her skirt. Lula is big in body and even larger in personality. She's a good friend, but I've learned I shouldn't always listen to her. She is constantly getting me in trouble.

Lula is the direct opposite to me. Half Italian and half Hungarian, my skin is several shades lighter than Lula's. I have shoulder-length brown curly hair and blue eyes and a cute little nose I consider to be my best feature. I am of average height and weight and I have an average body shape. My daily outfit is a pair of jeans, Converse sneakers, t-shirt and hoody. I am more reserved than Lula, but I still have a history of getting into trouble.

Another of my good friends is Connie Rosolli. Of Italian descent, she looks like Betty Boop on steroids. A couple of inches shorter, a couple of pounds heavier, a couple of cup sizes bigger than me, her connections to the mob and her ability to withstand Vinnie qualify her for the job as office manager. She agreed with Lula. "Any person dumb enough to get caught on camera – twice – while playing Robin Hood shouldn't be too hard to catch."

Vinnie, my sleazy weasel-creep cousin and namesake of the Vincent Plum Bail Bonds office in which I work, chimed in. "Can't be too hard. The police found it easy to catch him the first time. He was practically waiting with cuffs on. He probably just forgot his court date." And then he delivered the clincher. "If I have to put Joyce on this you'll be fired. I'll take away all your files and give the whole lot to her."

My mind screamed in panic. No files means no job. No job means no rent. No rent means living with my parents and grandmother. And faced with the idea of returning to a house with only one bathroom, I gave in. "Okay, okay. I'll pick him up. How hard can it be?" I comforted myself. I took the file and looked over the particulars. Most I knew already. Lives just outside the Burg, the Italian section of Trenton in which I grew up. Like the Burg, houses in Roberto's neighbourhood are modest, residents hard-working and cars are American. Roberto is fifty-three, father to Silvio, Carla, Hector and Amelia. Silvio was a police officer, killed on duty just two months ago. Cause of death not attributed to the drug dealer who shot him, but rather to the lack of budget for flak vests. The police force in Trenton is notoriously under-budgeted, understaffed and overworked. Nicknamed "Robin Hood" by the media, Roberto's actions raised awareness for a real problem. I looked at his picture. At 5'6", he was a portly man with a monk's haircut. I thought he looked more like Friar Tuck than Robin Hood.

And now he's disappeared, ready to be brought in by yours truly. Lucky me.

"Okay, I'm off. Do you want to ride shotgun?" I asked Lula.

"Hell, yeah. Not every day I see you take down a hero." Lula paused for a moment. "But I'll only go if we can stop for a snack. I missed breakfast this morning. A big beautiful woman like me needs her breakfast. I've got to maintain this level of beauty, do you see what I'm saying? If I'm going hero hunting, I need a doughnut!"

Lula and I stopped at the Tasty Pastry, the bakery in which I worked my way through high school. I picked out two doughnuts – a jelly filled and a Boston Cream. Lula had a bit more difficulty choosing. Her eyes were shiny, her nose quivering, her body vibrating with the strain of choosing just two doughnuts. I went outside, leaving Lula to contemplate the joys of the pastry case.

Standing in the sun, polishing off the last bite of jelly doughnut, I saw Joe Morelli's car take a quick right into the Tasty Pastry parking lot. Morelli is my on-again, off-again boyfriend. He's six feet of Italian testosterone, packaged in a hard body of which men are jealous and women love. He's got chocolate brown eyes that can be hard and assessing when in cop mode, but can quickly switch to soft and sensual when he's interested in more amorous pursuits. I have a long history with Joe, starting with losing my virginity to Morelli behind the counter of the Tasty Pastry when I was sixteen and hitting him – by accident, of course – with a car when I was eighteen. While he was a trouble maker back then, over time and with military and police training he has morphed into a law-abiding citizen and a good cop. I'm not sure where we currently are in the relationship. I guess you could say we have a vague understanding. We acknowledge the "L" word but have difficulty committing to each other for various reasons. I don't like his job as a cop; he doesn't like my job as a bounty hunter; and perhaps more importantly, he's not the only man in my life.

His face looked grim as he got out of the car. He was dressed in jeans and boots and a cream cable-knit sweater pushed up to his elbows. The sight of his hard body brought a warm rush heading straight south to my lower region. He came over to join me, reaching in the bakery bag to snag the Boston Cream. "I need to talk to you", he said in a serious tone.

"Uh-oh. What have I done wrong this time?"

"Nothing. It's me that has a problem and I need your help, but I can't talk now. Can I meet you at Pino's at noon?" Pino's is an Italian pizzeria commonly frequented by hospital staff and cops. It is the safest place to have a heart attack outside of the hospital.

Morelli took a bite of the Boston Cream and gave the rest back to me. He gave me a quick kiss goodbye. I knew something was really bothering him. He didn't finish the doughnut and he didn't look down my shirt to check out my assets before he left.

Lula interrupted my worry. She had a box of twelve doughnuts. "Apprehending a hero is exhausting work. I need my strength. Besides, I couldn't decide. How is a person supposed to decide? They've got cake doughnuts, raised doughnuts, iced doughnuts, filled doughnuts, plain-assed doughnuts… it's not fair. How are you supposed to choose?" I agreed. Sometimes it is hard to choose.

Lula and I cruised the street where Roberto Mendez lived. The Mendez house was the left side of a duplex. Painted white with black trim, it was a tasteful contrast to the orange and green exterior next door. The house was well maintained. Not the home of the drug dealers and pimps I usually chase, but after a few years as a bounty hunter nothing surprised me. Besides, this was Robin Hood, not your typical felon.

No cars, no sign of activity at the house. We sat in the car watching the house for half an hour, eating doughnuts to fill the time. I had one more; Lula had 10. She would have had the last but decided we should save one for Connie. "I can eat these doughnuts", Lula exclaimed. "I'm on a new diet. This one is gonna work. It's the movement diet. All I have to do is keep moving, using calories and I can eat what I want." Hunh. That explains why Lula is constantly jiggling her leg and shaking the car. I thought she had to go to the bathroom.

When the half hour was up we felt sufficiently sick and decided it was time to approach the Mendez house.

"Who we gonna be? Girl Scouts? Bible thumpers? Soccer team fundraiser? This don't look like no hooker neighbourhood", Lula said.

"No, we aren't being anything. We will just go up, ring the doorbell and explain that he is in violation of his bond agreement and he needs to come in to reschedule. It's supposed to be easy, remember?"

When a person is arrested, the judge can set a bond and, if paid, the accused can walk amongst the free until their court date. When they show up for court, the bond is paid back to the accused.

If the accused does not have the money to pay the bond, they can use the services of a bondsman. The bondsman – that's the company I work for – will pay the bond in exchange for collateral. For this service, the bondsman charges fifteen percent of the price of the bond. If the accused shows up for court, they get the collateral back but the bondsman keeps the fifteen percent. If the accused fails to show for court, the court keeps the bond until the accused is brought back into the system. This doesn't make the bondsman happy and so a bond enforcement agent, aka bounty hunter, is hired to retrieve the accused and bring them back into the system. That's me. For this I get ten percent of the bond value and the bondsman keeps the remaining five percent. Good deal for me. It is piecemeal work though. If I don't bring people back to court, I don't get paid. And if I can't find them, Vinnie keeps the collateral to cover the cost of the bond.

I got out of the car, transferring my cuffs to the back pocket of my jeans, my pepper spray to my front sweatshirt pocket and my attitude to the forefront. The big bad bounty hunter taking down Robin Hood. Sometimes I hate my job.

"Do you think I need my gun?" Lula asked.

"No! No guns! This is Robin Hood, not the Grim Reaper. Besides, didn't you say this would be easy? That he would be practically waiting with cuffs on?"

"Hunh. I'll just keep it in my pocket. You never know with these Robin Hoods. I might need my gun and where would we be if I left it in the car? It's not like you are carrying one." She looked questioningly at me. Nope, my gun was at home in my cookie jar, just like always.

"Okay", I replied. It's not like I could stop Lula even if I wanted to. "But no shooting!"

"Hunh. You always have all these rules. Little miss rule-maker. Why do you get to always make the rules?"

"Because I am the bond enforcement agent and you are my assistant?"

"Hunh."

We walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. No response. We rang it again and looked in the windows. No curtains twitching, no footsteps, no dogs barking. Nothing. The neighbour stuck her head out the door. "If you are looking for Roberto, he's not there right now. I know he's around, but I haven't seen him in over a week."

"Is he expected back soon?" I asked.

"I don't know. I haven't talked to him in a while. But I know I wouldn't hang around. I would disappear if I was him. Did you know the police arrested him for helping them? No appreciation. He's a good man. He was just trying to help. Now they are going to fry him. It's not fair. There's no justice in this world." I nodded my head. Sometimes it did seem like there was no justice in the world.

Lula and I walked back to the car. Lula was unusually quiet. I wasn't sure if it was the thought of no justice or the ten doughnuts, but her silence was creeping me out. On my side, I was thinking no matter the reason, he still stole property. And that is wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 8

**Chapter Two**

I dropped Lula off at the office and headed to Pino's. Morelli was already in a booth at the back of the restaurant. He got up, gave me a quick kiss and sat down again.

"You've had me curious all morning. Is this a business meeting or personal?" I asked.

"Personal for me, business for you" Morelli answered. He still didn't look happy. His brown eyes were cop eyes, hard and assessing; his brown hair – a week past due for a cut – was dishevelled; his body language tight and closed.

"I have a problem. Remember how Mario was arrested for possession of stolen property?" Mario is Morelli's brother and like all Morelli men – with the exception of Joe – Mario was a charming jerk. Always womanizing, mostly alcoholic, periodically abusive and as lazy as they come. Morelli men are the scourge of the neighbourhood. Yet for some reason Morelli women put up with them. Morelli women are known to be saints; Morelli men are known to consort with the devil.

I nodded. Mario was accused of stealing a truck-load of TVs. Apparently one night, while drunk, he and another as yet uncaught person were walking past a truck unloading televisions into a store. Mario got into the truck and drove it away while the store employees were unloading the boxes. The only problem was they didn't close the tailgate of the truck. One of the store employees was still in the back of the truck when it started to move and, when the truck was stopped at a red light, the employee ran out of the truck up to the driver's door and pulled Mario out from behind the wheel. The employee made a citizen's arrest while the accomplice got away.

"Mario was bonded out by Vinnie. My mom put her house up for collateral. His court date comes up in five days."

We stopped talking to order. When the waitress left, Morelli continued. "Mario is gone. He disappeared a week ago. No one knows where he is."

This was bad news. Not only could Mario be in trouble, but if Mario isn't found, Vinnie could be in the position where he has to take possession of the house. This would upset the whole Morelli family, leaving Joe's parents and Grandma Bella out on the street. The ramifications were heart stopping. While no one likes to oust someone from their home in order to repay the bond, definitely no one ever wants to upset Grandma Bella. Sicilian by birth, she has become more Sicilian the longer she lives in the United States. A short scarecrow of a woman with gray hair, a black wardrobe and chin whiskers, she is purported to have the power to cast the "eye" – Sicilian voodoo to which all sorts of calamites are attributed. After being cursed by the eye people have had all their hair fall out, broken out in hives and lost the ability to sustain an erection. People and dogs have been known to cross the street to avoid Grandma Bella.

I don't think I really believe in the eye. But my own run-ins with Grandma Bella and being the recipient of the eye a few times makes me question my beliefs. After all, if it wasn't the eye, why did I get those big boil-sized zits? Why was my period late? But as much as I hate it and try to avoid it, I have somewhat accepted I will continue to be on the receiving end of the eye. Simply put, Grandma Bella hates me.

And now I'm faced with having to step on Grandma Bella's toes in order to find Mario. Could this day get any worse?

Our meatball subs came to the table. "I can't look for him in any official capacity. I don't have time. I pulled a double homicide this morning down on Stark Street. I'll help you in any way I can but I'm not sure how much more I can do. I've already talked to the family and no one has seen him. I don't know what my brother is thinking but I definitely don't want my parents and grandmother out on the street."

Neither did I.

As lunch ended, I got a call from Vinnie asking me to hurry back to the office. He sounded frantic. I drove back, parking my dented and rusty 10-year old Honda Civic in front of the office window. A new black 911 Porsche Turbo slid into the spot behind me. Ricardo Carlos Manosa, aka Ranger, angled out. Former Special Forces, Ranger is my one-time mentor, periodic partner and over-protective friend. At six inches greater than my 5'7" height, dressed in habitual black, he is all mocha latte goodness on the outside and strong moral code within. The fact the code does not always follow standard laws is irrelevant – he is the strongest person I know both in and out. A Cuban-American, he has short dark brown hair and heart-melting brown eyes I know from experience dilate to black when aroused. He smiles rarely, talks minimally and always lives with his back to the wall. He is the other man in my life.

Ranger and I share an attraction we skate around, periodically coming together when the stars align and we let our guard down. But while we both privately acknowledge a more intimate relationship would be explosive, intense and magical, my traditional Catholic upbringing conflicts with his need to avoid personal commitments. Ranger has a past and his first priority is and will always be to try to repair his karma.

"Babe."

"Babe" can mean a lot of things to Ranger. It can mean "You are amusing me." Or it can be a form of foreplay. It can be said in exasperation or, in this case, it can simply mean "I missed you." Ranger pulled me around the corner of the building. He gave me a kiss. Our tongues met and my toes curled. Instinctively I had leaned into him, deepening the kiss, when Vinnie came charging out of the office interrupting us, his weasel eyes looking like they were ready to pop out of their sockets. Ranger sighed.

"Thank God you're here! I need to speak to you both in private. Now!"

I preceded Ranger into Vinnie's office and Ranger shut the door.

"I have a problem", Vinnie bit out, "and I'll pay both of you to solve it." He paused to take a breath. "I'm being blackmailed. I don't know who is doing the blackmailing, just that I am to come up with one hundred thousand by Sunday or else a certain video will go public."

"What is the video of?" I asked.

"Without giving particulars, me, Joyce Barnhardt and a dog whose owner I met in my Sex Anonymous group."

Eeuww.

"Lucille will kill me if she finds out. Harry the Hammer will kill me if Lucille finds out. My life is ruined." Lucille is Vinnie's wife. Harry the Hammer is her father and is the owner of the bonds office. A former enforcer for the mob, Harry did not earn his nickname by his ability to perform carpentry work.

"The thing is, I don't know who knows about my activities. How could they do this to me? It's not like I advertised when I got together with anyone for a date."

"Are you sure they have a video and it's not just a hoax?" questioned Ranger.

"Yes, they emailed a copy to me at lunchtime today", replied Vinnie.

"I will need your email address and password information to see if I can track the sender down through Rangeman." Rangeman is Ranger's ultra-elite security company. Located in a seven-story secure office building in downtown Trenton with satellite offices in Boston, Atlanta and Miami, it more resembles the Batcave in technology and secrecy. While clients encompass Trenton's wealthy and famous, I recently have started to wonder whether more goes on there than simple property protection.

"Please, whatever you can do to help. Just find the SOB and soon."

When it looked like the meeting was over, I cleared my throat. "Just to further complicate your life, Vinnie, it appears Mario Morelli has disappeared." I winced at Vinnie's roar.

"Disappeared?" The horror of what I said left Vinnie speechless and with a mottled face.

"He's got a few days until he has to show up for court, so it may work out okay" I said. Instinct told me Mario wasn't planning on coming back, but I tried to put a positive spin on it.

"It should have been a straightforward bond. His brother is a cop, for crying out loud! Could this day get any worse?" Vinnie bellowed.

"Nope", I thought. Robin Hood, Grandma Bella and blackmail. The trifecta of bad days.


	3. Chapter 3

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 6

**Chapter Three**

Ranger and I walked outside.

"How do you want to handle this?" I asked.

"I have some time now. Why don't we talk to Joyce and the owner of the dog?" Ranger opened the door to his Porsche for me. I got in reluctantly. Reluctantly not because I didn't want to spend time with Ranger – spending time with him is often peaceful and encourages me to get in touch with my Zen. And I love his car. It is a sexy alternative to the rusted out Civic I drive. Riding in it makes me feel like James Bond. It's just I don't like Joyce. Joyce Barnhardt has been the figurative boil on my backside since I was four years old. At four she dumped red paint all over my brand-new dress on school picture day; at eleven she told everyone I picked my nose and ate the boogers; in my twenties I found her with my new husband on my new dining room table in an affair that lives on in Burg history. More recently, she has decided she is a bounty hunter and runs around in black leather, gun pulled, yelling "freeze" in a ridiculous and ineffective attempt to copy bounty hunters on "reality" shows on TV. And she does all this while stealing my skips from Vinnie. The animosity between the two of us is well-known and legendary. I gave a large sigh. Ranger's face showed he was thinking about smiling. "Cheer up", he said, "I'll be there to protect you."

When we arrived at Joyce's neighbourhood Ranger parked a couple of houses down the street. He sat for a minute, taking the pulse of the neighbourhood. It was quiet. No children playing, no sprinklers running, no dogs barking. No sign of life at all.

We walked up to Joyce's house. A tidy Cape Cod with a red door and white trim. The door and walkway were flanked with flowers growing with a profusion that screamed of weekly gardener visits. The front door had a gorgeous three-quarter etched and bevelled glass insert. The house was decorated for Hallowe'en. Gravestones, spider webs and skeletons were placed on the porch. I thought this a fitting tribute to the witch who lived within.

Ranger rang the bell. Out of habit we both moved to the side of the door, out of the way of potential shotgun blasts. Have I learned something as a bounty hunter or what?

Joyce opened the door. Her black yoga top and matching pants showed off her D cup implants to perfection. Her red hair was teased, her make-up subdued, her false eyelashes prominent in an otherwise pale face. "You!" she exclaimed. "I should have known it was you!" and she grabbed my t-shirt and started to choke me. Ranger stepped in between us, squeezing Joyce's wrists until she let me go. "Now", he said, "what the hell are you talking about?"

"Honey," Joyce said, turning on her man-eating charm, "Stephanie here is vicious. She's blackmailing me. She didn't tell you that, did she? And now she's got you conned into being her muscle to collect the money. Although I have to say she's got great taste in muscle. If you ever want to be treated right, just let me know."

"Skank", I muttered under my breath.

"Babe", Ranger warned before asking "what do you mean by blackmailed?"

"Ask Stephanie", Joyce replied. "I got a request for money today in exchange for a video. I have less than a week to come up with the money."

"Let me guess – this video involves you, Vinnie and a dog?" I questioned.

"See, I knew she was in on it. Shoot her; arrest her; do something! I can't have that video floating around."

"Why not?" I asked.

"If you must know, I am just about to announce my engagement to my fourth husband. He's as rich as Croesus and has no ex-wives to support. If he sees that video it will be the end of the relationship. You have to help me", she appealed to Ranger.

"Stephanie isn't behind it. She found out about the blackmailing scheme the same time I did – about an hour ago in Vinnie's office. How much are you being blackmailed for?"

"One hundred thousand dollars."

"Besides Stephanie, do you have any idea who could be doing this to you?"

"No, everybody loves me" Joyce replied. I started to choke. Nobody likes Joyce. She comes near you and you smell sulfur burning. She's the epitome of the Wicked Witch of the West. She's evil personified. Joyce gave a little smile. "Well, maybe not everyone", she said.

After getting the necessary information to allow us to trace Joyce's emails, we got up to leave. "Let me know if there is any way I can repay you, Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome!" Joyce reached over and stroked Ranger's cheek. I grimaced and did a full body shiver. Ranger just smiled and moved away. Mr. Cool in the face of danger.

We both walked away from the house, quiet with our thoughts. When we got in the car I turned to Ranger and handed him some hand sanitizer to wipe down his cheek. Ranger started to smile. "You know, this may be the only time when I've been glad you refuse to carry a gun. For a minute there I thought you were going to grab _my_ gun and demand she get her hands off me, Babe."

I smiled. I might have if I had thought of it.


	4. Chapter 4

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 7

**Chapter Four**

I called Vinnie and reported in. "What do you mean you don't know who it is yet? This guy will kill me. Remember, no Vinnie, no bail bonds office, no job for you. I gave you a job when you needed it most. Now you need to help me in return." And he hung up. It was only partially true. I blackmailed Vinnie into a job a few years ago and still, for some reason, I am working for him. I don't know why. It's not the pay and it's not the job security. There is something about the job I like though. It may be because I get to make my own hours; it may be because I'm not chained to one spot; or, it may be because I don't have to wear pantyhose. Whatever it is, it works for me.

We drove fifteen minutes into North Trenton to visit Joey Trimble, owner of a bull mastiff named Duchess. Like me, Joey grew up in the Burg and has since moved out. She just moved out further than I did. She was a couple years ahead of me in school, so I didn't really know her. More Morelli's and Connie's time period than mine. We found the street and I counted houses, parking two down from a modest red-brick single detached home. No Hallowe'en decorations here. A cracked walkway leading up to the orange door intersected a weed infested lawn dotted with brown piddle patches. This was definitely the home of a dog and, judging by the size of the patches, a big dog.

Ranger again sat for a couple of minutes, taking the vibe of the neighbourhood before he got out of the car. Quiet. Kids still at school; owners still at work. This was a working neighbourhood with double-income families struggling to survive.

We walked up the crumbling steps to the house. We could hear Duchess barking inside as she raced to the door to protect her turf. Joey opened the door, one hand on her dog's head. The dog was huge. I've seen horses smaller than the giant facing me through the half-opened door. I took solace in the fact the dog looked happy, with drool hanging down from the sides of her mouth. But I took a step back just in case.

"May I help you?" Joey asked. I looked at Ranger. He introduced us, telling Joey we work for a security company that represents Vincent Plum. With this, Joey's face turned white and her hand tightened on Duchess' collar. Duchess growled low in her throat.

"I don't want to talk about Vinnie" she stated. Ranger continued anyway. "Vinnie received a blackmail threat this afternoon from someone. We don't know who. We were wondering whether you received a similar threat." Joey looked at us in a panic for a long minute, her mind debating the wisdom in trusting in us. Duchess stopped growling, leaned over and sniffed, then licked, Ranger's hand. This seemed to be the deciding factor. Joey opened the door wider and invited us in.

As Joey started to tell us about the blackmailing, you could see the panic overtaking all rational thought. In her panic Joey started to babble. "I can't have this go anywhere. I can't have the video leaked. The Humane Society will take my dog away. I've been frantic all afternoon. I can't lose Duchess. She's my baby! Even the money Duchess brings in by her special games won't cover the amount I need to meet the blackmailer's demands."

"How much are you being blackmailed for?" Ranger asked.

"One hundred thousand. But I don't have it. There's no way I can get it. Duchess eats a lot and money doesn't grow on trees, you know."

"Did you get your blackmail threat by email?"

"Yes, do you want to see it?" Joey offered.

"Even better would be if we can have your email and password information so we can trace it." As Joey wrote out the information we fished out business cards to leave with Joey. As we turned to go I said "One last question – just out of curiosity, how did you make Duchess do those things in the video?"

"Peanut butter" she answered.

Eeuww.

"Now what?" I asked as we got in the car.

"Follow the crumbs, Babe, follow the crumbs." Ranger called the Batcave. He listened for a couple of minutes, then hung up the phone. "All three emails were sent at the same time, originating from the Internet Café on State Street. Let's go look at security tapes."

The Internet Café is a downtrodden coffee shop located near the intersection of Empire and Stark. This area of Stark is not the worst but not the best – bad enough you think twice about walking outside at night; not bad enough you have to worry about your car missing when you come out of the store.

The Internet Café is an establishment desperate to earn money in whatever way it can. At the cash you can purchase coffee and cookies, mints and ammunition, fun-loving women and forged identification. It did not look like a place that would be willing to share their security tapes.

Ranger introduced himself to the store manager and quickly flashed some identification. I hoped the manager did not look too carefully at the credentials – I knew for a fact the credentials, like mine, were purchased over the internet rather than being issued by a formal licensing body. They are periodically useful, however, as many times people tend to be impressed by a badge.

This was not one of those times. When we asked for the security tapes, the manager laughed. "Give copies of my tapes? You've got to be kidding. How would my customers feel if they knew I was passing information on to you? I would lose their respect. I would lose that element of confidentiality. I would lose my business. Get a warrant."

Ranger looked steadily at the little worm. "You can do this two ways – you can share the information with us now and I will close my eyes to the fact you are supplementing your income through illegal gun trade, or I can phone the police and have them take a closer look at the items behind your counter." The manager blanched. Apparently illegal gun trade heavily supported his business.

"We don't need to involve the police, now do we? I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement." Ranger lips twitched into a small smile. The manager took us into his office in the back. "What exactly are you looking for? We only save our tapes for two days before they are recycled. I'm not sure if I can help you even if I tried."

"That's okay," I said, "We are only looking for the time period directly before lunch today." The manager cued up the tapes. They were grainy after years of copying and recopying. Ranger and I watched the time stamp, fast-forwarding towards noon, the time Vinnie, Joyce and Joey received their emails. When 11:55 appeared, we slowed down to regular speed. There were 6 people using computers at that time. My jaw dropped – one of the users was Mario Morelli! At least I know he's around town, I thought. I didn't recognize any of the other users. I looked at Ranger. He gave an almost-imperceptible shake. He didn't recognize anyone either.

We asked if the manager knew any of the customers. He said he didn't, but I wasn't sure I believed what he said. He seemed pretty determined to protect his customer's confidentiality. Just in case, Ranger asked for copies of credit card receipts for the hour before and the hour after the time the email was sent. This was a no-go, as it seemed everyone paid cash to use the computers. I guess this is another under-the-counter income line hidden from the IRS.

Ranger paid twenty dollars for the copy of the tape. The manager looked happy to see the money, whisking it into his pocket before Ranger could reconsider. We took our tape and left the building.

"I have a meeting this afternoon, Babe. I'll take the tape into Rangeman and see if Rafael can clean it up. I'll be free for dinner if you want to join me at my place. How about six?" I nodded. Ranger lives on the seventh floor of the Rangeman building. His luxurious apartment is looked after by Ella, his housekeeper. In addition to cleaning his apartment, doing his laundry and otherwise making Ranger's environment a civilized one, Ella provides a gourmet dinner every night when Ranger is in town. In comparison, my standard dinner is a peanut butter and olive sandwich. And after my conversation with Joey today, I may not eat peanut butter again for a very long time.


	5. Chapter 5

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 10

**Chapter Five**

When Ranger dropped me off at the office, I entered to see Lula lounging on the brown vegan leather sofa. Her feet were propped up on Connie's desk, keeping time and shaking Connie's desk as her legs bee-bopped to the rhythm in her earphones. Her earphones were plugged into her phone and she was singing at the top of her voice. And Lula can't sing.

"Lula, stop singing" Connie begged.

Lula took out her earphones. "What? Did you say something?"

"Please stop singing", Connie repeated.

I'm not singing" Lula replied. She put her earphones back in and proceeded to continue to sing and dance in her seat. "I can't get nooo…satis-faction…But I try….But I try…But I try…But I try-yi…"

Connie looked at me. "Please, please tell me you are done with Ranger and you can take her out of the office. I'm begging you. The only good thing that came out of her singing and gyrating was it drove Vinnie away. "

I pulled the earphones back out of Lula's ears. "I'm off to find Mario Morelli. Want to tag along?"

Lula bounced up. "It was getting boring here anyway", she said. "Vinnie even went home so I couldn't amuse myself by pissing him off. Besides you may need some help with Grandma Bella. She's a crazy old bat. I know how to handle crazy old bats like that. When I was growing up I had to deal with lots of crazy old bats. 'Course, those old bats were crazy because their brains were rotted by drugs. Grandma Bella is just crazy because she wants to be."

I can't argue with that. We decided to visit Mrs. Morelli first and get it over with. I hoped Grandma Bella was at the Senior's Centre, or shopping, or at her grandkids… or anywhere but at the Morelli's. We got to the house. "Do you want me to cover the back so if that Mario man tries to disappear we can nail him? I'm good at nailing people. I can jump on him and squash him like a little bug."

"No. First of all, Mario isn't in violation of his bond agreement yet. Second of all, we are just trying to do a favour to Joe and Vinnie by trying to track down Mario before the Morellis end up losing their house. We'll go up to the front door, hopefully get invited in and talk civilly to the Morellis. "

"What do you mean 'hopefully get invited in'? You are going out with their son. You are practically engaged to the man. Do you mean you might not get invited in?"

What Lula said made me pause. Was I practically engaged to the man? I know there are times when I have lived with Joe, but after a couple of months we wise up and I go back to my own apartment again. The truth is I like having my own place. I like the peace, I like the space and I like having my own bathroom. Joe's place is nice too – it's comfortable and has Bob the dog, a shaggy, orange, lovable golden-retriever type of beast that eats everything. But it's not home.

We drove up to the Morelli house. Like the Mendez house, the Morelli house is a modest duplex with a small porch on the front. Unlike the Mendez house, the Morelli house is located in the Burg. Its' porch was decorated for Hallowe'en with pumpkins, scarecrows and chrysanthemums. A handmade autumn silk floral arrangement hung beside the front door.

We knocked on the front door. Mrs. Morelli answered and stood blocking the way into the house. "Sorry", she whispered, "I would invite you in but Grandma Bella is having her afternoon nap."

"Hunh", Lula said. She rocked back and forth.

"That's fine. We really don't want to disturb Grandma Bella" I said. I came right to the point of why I was there – no point hanging around when Grandma Bella could wake up at any time. I explained that Joe and Vinnie had asked Lula and I to look into Mario's case, that Mario seemed to be missing and his trial was coming up in a few days. I told her we were just doing a check in and asked whether she had seen Mario in the last little while. "No", she answered. "And I don't expect to. He'll show up for court. He knows we will lose the house if he doesn't show up. I'm sure he will be there." I don't know who she was trying to convince – us or herself. I asked whether there was anyone she could think of that Mario would stay with. "No – just his brothers, Joe, Anthony. Any of the cousins. His wife, Tessa."

"Who's that? Who you talking to at door?" Oh, oh. Grandma Bella was awake.

Lula and I collectively gasped.

Grandma Bella came down the stairs behind Mrs. Morelli and looked out the door at me. "You! You devil child! You bad girl. You corrupt my grandson. I give you eye!" And Grandma Bella put her finger to her eye.

Joe's mother snatched Grandma Bella's hand down again. "Stop that! You know Joseph asked you to stop giving Stephanie the eye."

"I know nothing", Grandma Bella screeched. "This girl evil. Joseph a good boy. She sleep with Joseph. She not married. She corrupt Joseph. And Mario a good boy. She look for Mario. She bring pain to Morellis. I have vision." And Grandma Bella brought her hand up to her forehead. Mrs. Morelli shook her head. Grandma Bella said "I need to lie down. I always need to lie down after vision." And she turned around and headed back up the stairs. Lula and I let out a whoosh. I looked at Lula. She was shaking. So was I.

Lula and I ran for the car.

"Well", said Lula, "you got doubly jinxed. The eye and a vision all in one day. You are screwed. I'm glad I'm not you." I didn't say anything, but I thought I was screwed as well.

We went next to Tessa's house. The door was opened by Mario's 5-year old son, Jason. "Mom", he shouted, "Stephanie and a big fat chick are here."

"Excuse me? Did you call me fat? 'Cause you better not be calling me fat. I'm a big, beautiful woman. You better not be disrespectin' a big, beautiful woman. Do you see me calling you a pint-sized little turd? No, I'm not." Jason ran away. "Did you see that? Kids have no manners these days."

Tessa came to the door. "Mario's mom just called and said you might be coming over. She said you are looking for Mario?" I nodded my head. "I don't know where he is. I haven't seen him in over a week. He hasn't even come to see the kids and there was a school concert last week he missed. Jason was devastated. I know Mario knows about the trial coming up. He was worrying about his parents losing their house and about Grandma Bella being forced onto the street. They can't do that, can they?"

I explained the Morellis would only lose their house if Mario failed to show up for court. I also explained Joe had asked me to look into finding Mario and he still had a few days to go before his court date. He wasn't FTA – failure to appear – yet, but we were doing a public service by just making sure Mario was still planning on showing up. I gave Tessa my card and asked her to call me if she saw Mario or if she thinks of somewhere Mario could be staying. She said she would. A crash sounded inside the house and a baby started to cry. "Gotta go", Tessa said, "the dog is stealing toys again."

"The dog, hunh. It was probably that little turd again. Fat chick, my ass." Lula grumbled.

It was getting close to 6:00, so I dropped Lula off at the office and motored over to the Rangeman facility. I keyed in the underground parking and parked my car in one of Ranger's personal spots. Ranger has four personal spots. One is taken with his 911 Porsche Turbo; one is taken up with his Porsche Cayenne; and, one is taken up by his Toyota Tacoma truck. Like Ranger's fleet cars, all are black, all are new and all are clean and in pristine condition. The origin of the cars is questionable. Ranger once told me he gets them in payment for security services he provides. I don't know. All I know is my rusty old Civic stands out like a sore thumb. But while the Civic isn't the new Lexus I like to pretend it is, it is totally all mine.

The Rangeman facility is seven stories tall. The top floor is Ranger's apartment; the sixth floor is the apartment for Ella, the housekeeper and her husband, Luis, the building caretaker; the fifth floor houses the control room and various offices; the third and fourth floors contain the gym and efficiency apartments for staff; the second floor contains more offices and conference rooms; the first floor contains the lobby; and the basement contains a shooting range, holding cells and a whole lot of other facilities I haven't yet toured. Ranger met me on the fifth floor and we took the elevator up to his apartment.

Ranger keyed us into his lobby. I was shocked the first time I saw Ranger's apartment and, to this day, it still takes me by surprise. Ranger is so self-sufficient and tough that for years I thought he slept on hard dirt floors and ate tree bark and bugs to sustain himself. Instead, the opposite is true. You enter his apartment and to one side of the lobby is an antique hall table graced with fresh flowers and two silver trays – one for keys and the other for mail. The entrance hall opens on a half bath on one side and a high-end kitchen complete with granite counters and stainless steel appliances on the other. The kitchen has a breakfast bar, which opens onto a small dining room and living room. At the other end of the apartment is the master suite. A sumptuous bathroom, large custom closet and office are attached to the spacious bedroom. The entire apartment was professionally decorated in soothing, masculine neutrals accented with black and warm contemporary woods and leathers. Having had the need to use his apartment as a safe house in the past, I know from experience his king-size bed has sheets that are at least 1000 thread count, his towels are thick and thirsty and Ranger's signature scent comes from Bulgari Green body wash. I have also had to use his apartment enough to know a couple of changes of Rangeman uniforms in my size are stored for me in the closet. I honestly don't think Ranger much notices the luxury and I doubt he could even describe the pictures on the walls. His apartment is not a home. There are no photographs, no pets, no reading material or clutter. While he once told me I transformed a safe house into a home for him, I don't believe it. I am not sure where home is for Ranger, although I suspect it is someplace he carries inside of him.

The kitchen smelled wonderful. We washed our hands and removed the chicken rice casserole from the warming drawer and the salad and dressing from the fridge. We set the table and dished up the meal. By tacit agreement, we decided not to discuss the blackmailing. Instead we talked about my sister Valerie's kids, recent viewings at the funeral home, how my hamster Rex is the perfect pet. I told Ranger about needing to take down Robin Hood and how the police will hate me for doing my job. And we discussed Mario Morelli. I told Ranger about seeing Mario on the tape, how it seems no one knows where he is staying and, in fact, no one has seen him in over a week. And I told him about getting hexed – again – by Grandma Bella.

"You know the eye isn't real, don't you?" said Ranger. "It works on the power of suggestion, that's all. It can't hurt you." I didn't know how to tell him, but I was worried anyway. One of the last times Grandma Bella gave me the eye she put me under the vordu curse, which made me into a slut. I could not get enough sex no matter how much I tried. Ranger and Morelli were both happy and willing partners who tried to help me out. That lack of control was great when I was under the curse, but it sure made me feel icky after the curse was lifted.

We cleaned up the table, putting the leftovers back in the fridge, and walked into the office. Ranger called the security video up on his computer and pulled up the cleaned up copy. We looked at the video again, but still could not identify anyone other than Mario. Ranger zoomed in on each individual face and printed off copies of the faces. He then accessed a different program and put the five faces into it. The computer started to run the faces against all domestic and international databases. Rangeman has computer software the Trenton police department can only dream of. It can find everything from your kindergarten report cards to what you ate for breakfast to the results of your last gynecological exam. "Well, Babe, this will take all night to run. Do you want to stay?" and he leaned over and gave me a kiss. We touched tongues and heat went straight down to my doodah. Much more kissing and I would be begging, vague understanding with Morelli be damned. But I hadn't shaved my legs this morning and the thought of stubble during sex stopped me in my tracks. Red-faced, I told Ranger no, blurting out the reason why.

"So?" Ranger questioned. "Just for the record, I don't care about that sort of thing, you know."

Eeuww. I do.


	6. Chapter 6

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 2

**Chapter Six**

I live in a no-frills apartment building on the edge of the Burg. Inhabited by the newly wed and nearly dead - and me - it is characterized by avocado-green appliances and cheap rent. It has an orange and brown bathroom, one beige bedroom, a small cream-coloured kitchen and a small beige eating and living area. My second-floor apartment looks over the parking lot. This lets me watch the seniors' parking wars as they fight over the right to park in the disabled parking spots. It has a fire escape off the bedroom window which I can almost pretend is a balcony. It is home to my hamster Rex and myself.

I can see my apartment from the parking lot and tonight the lights were on. Since I just left Ranger, I assumed Morelli was waiting for me. I had given Morelli a key a while ago; Ranger doesn't need a key. No matter what locks I put on the door Ranger can get in. He's like smoke.

Morelli met me at the door. "No doggy bag from your mom? No pineapple upside down cake?" he questioned. "Rex was looking forward to some leftovers."

I explained that I ate with Ranger, Rex could have a baby carrot for dinner and there was a frozen macaroni and cheese in the freezer ready to be zapped in the microwave. The only part of that which registered was I ate with Ranger. Morelli looked at his shoe and counted to ten. "Ranger? You aren't working with him again, are you? He's dangerous." Morelli looked like he had a cramp. I told him to count to ten again while I put the macaroni in the microwave. We were quiet while we waited for Morelli's dinner to be ready and for Joe to get his temper under control. While I was waiting for the steam to stop coming out of Morelli's ears, I dropped a piece of carrot into Rex's cage. Rex scurried out of his soup can, shoved the piece of carrot into his mouth, stood staring at me with beady little black eyes and quivering nose for a minute, then scurried back into his can. Do I have the perfect pet or what?

I told Morelli about Vinnie's problem and what Ranger and I were doing about it. And I told him about seeing Mario on the security video. I told him about talking to Tessa and his mom. I told him about Grandma Bella giving me the eye. And I told him about Vinnie's request to take down Robin Hood. By the time I finished telling Morelli about everything, Joe was finished his dinner. "Be careful about Robin Hood", he said. "No one in the police force will support you in taking him down. Even _I_ don't support you in taking him down. I think you should involve the police in the blackmailing, but I can understand why Vinnie doesn't want to. Let me know if you need police back-up on it. I can't stay. Bob's at home and I still want to canvas the neighbourhood about the double homicide." Fine by me. I was tired and I had a lot to think about anyway. He gave me a couple of names of cousins Mario could be staying with, gave me a distracted kiss and headed out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 15

**Chapter Seven**

I woke up the next day to the sun glinting off the fire escape at my window. I love crisp, clear days like this. Unfortunately for me, I also woke up with a sore throat. It felt scratchy and raw. The curse at work.

I got up and shuffled to the kitchen. Shoved under my front door was a paper. I picked it up, expecting it would be a pizza take-out menu. Instead, it was a note. It said "I know you are looking for me. Leave me alone or something bad will happen to you." As far as threats go, this one was fairly harmless. It's sad to say I've received much worse as a bounty hunter. It's hard to take this one seriously. But it raises the question - who is the person who's spooked?

I popped in the shower and shaved my legs. One problem solved. I got out, wrapped a towel around me and headed to the bedroom. Ranger was sitting on the bed, staring at the note. "From anyone I know?"

"I don't know", I croaked. "Could be Mario. Could be the blackmailer. Could be Robin Hood. I just don't know."

"You don't sound too good, Babe." I grimaced.

I grabbed some jeans, a t-shirt and hoody and headed back into the bathroom to change. I pulled my hair into a loose ponytail, slapped on some mascara and lip gloss and I was ready for the day. Ranger was waiting for me in the kitchen. He handed me a coffee in a to-go cup and a bagel with cream cheese he had brought me from Rangeman and pulled out the file of pictures. Of the six customers, five now had names to attach to the faces. The sixth face was not a frontal picture. It was of the back of the head and was impossible to identify.

"Do you recognize the names of any of these people?" I asked Ranger.

"Not really. Mario Morelli, sure, wanted for possession and fencing of stolen property. Jack Katz and Allan Kendrik were hits off the passport database. They don't have any kind of criminal history anywhere we could find. Now Leonard Kostner and Stefano Pendello are more interesting. Kostner has been arrested twice for dealing drugs and Pendello is a flesh-peddler on the fourth block of Stark. Let's talk to Vinnie to see if he recognizes any of these guys and then talk to Kostner and Pendello to see what we can shake out. I think the blackmailer is probably familiar with Vinnie, Joyce and Joey. He could obtain email addresses for them quickly and knew that, in each case, he was hitting a hot button when he sent the blackmail message. Do you have time today?" Hell yes, I had time. Anything to avoid taking down Robin Hood.

I followed Ranger to the bonds office, parking in my spot at the back of the office. We entered to find Lula shaking on the couch, looking like a bug in its death throes and Connie trying desperately to ignore her. We went into Vinnie's office and showed Vinnie the pictures, asking him whether he recognized anyone. Like Ranger and myself, Vinnie thought Jack Katz and Allan Kendrik were dead ends. Vinnie did not remember meeting them and, as a bails bondsman, Vinnie recognized the chances of the blackmailer not knowing him were non-existent.

Vinnie agreed Kostner and Pendello were more interesting suspects. Kostner was bonded out twice by Vinnie in the past and is currently awaiting his court date. His mother put her car up for collateral. Pendello was a long shot. He had also been arrested but used a different bondsman. Ranger and I decided to meet after lunch to follow up our two leads. Drug dealers and pimps don't normally get up early in the day and we would have better luck catching them in a talkative state if we waited until they were open for business.

Ranger left. Lula stopped shaking and Connie and Lula looked at me with bright eyes. "So, did you get any last night?" Lula asked. "You left here to have dinner with Ranger and you showed up for work here with Ranger. Did anything happen?"

"No. Not at all. I hadn't shaved my legs" I offered in way of explanation. "Besides, I sort of have an agreement with Morelli."

"Yeah, but that ain't no formal agreement", Lula said. "That's like a part-time agreement. And although Morelli is hot for a cop, Ranger is the hottest guy I've ever met. I would be doing the nasty with him in a heartbeat if he looked at me like he looks at you."

"How does he look at me?"

"Like you're lunch and he's a starving man."

Oh, boy.

"Saddle up", I said, "We're going Mario hunting." I pulled out the addresses of the cousins Morelli gave me. "I have the names of two cousins who live in the area who are close enough to Mario to have us suspect they could be harbouring him. We know he is in the area since we caught him on camera at the Internet Café. And I need to go to the pharmacy to get some throat lozenges. My throat is killing me. Do you want to come?"

"Hell yeah. Someone has got to protect you from the curse that old bat put on you! You've already been given a sore throat. Do you have your gun?"

"No! No guns! We are just going to talk."

"Yeah, I knew that. But something has to protect you from the eye." I didn't have the heart to tell Lula, but the possibility of me getting shot by Lula while "protecting" me from the eye was stronger than the need for a gun.

We got in the car and drove first to the pharmacy. We picked out cherry lozenges. They're the best flavour. I bought four packs. With the way my throat felt, I thought I might need them all.

"Do you know what you need to make you feel better?" Lula asked. "You need happy food. You need a doughnut." I told her my throat was so sore I was having trouble swallowing and I didn't think a doughnut was a good idea. "Okay", Lula replied, "I need a doughnut then. I need to keep my strength up to make sure I can fight off all your germs. I don't want to get sick, too."

We swung by the Tasty Pastry on the way to the apartment of the first cousin on the list. I got an orange juice; Lula got a half-dozen doughnuts. The orange juice stung my throat.

I knew Morelli's cousin, Theresa, by sight – while I didn't really know her as a person, I had met her a few times at birthday parties of various relatives of Joe's. The whole way to the house the car shook and vibrated with the movement of Lula's legs and arms. I was starting to feel like a James Bond martini by the time we arrived – shaken but not stirred. Needless to say, I was glad to get there.

Theresa's apartment, like mine, is located on the outskirts of the Burg. It was a bare-bones place with little landscaping to soften the concrete walls and hard asphalt parking lot. Unlike my building, these apartments had balconies. Theresa's apartment was located on the fifth floor.

We took the elevator up to her place and knocked on the door. After a couple minutes Theresa answered, dressed in a dressing gown and left-over make-up smeared from the day before. Her bedhead was further testament we had woken her up.

"Stephanie! Nice to see you! I'm sorry I was still in bed – I was working the graveyard shift at the hospital last night. I crashed as soon as I got in a couple of hours ago." Theresa was a nursing assistant in the emergency room at St. Francis, our local hospital in the Burg. I apologized for waking her up and introduced Lula. Lula clasped and unclasped her hands and rocked from side to side, looking a little like an alcoholic who had imbibed too much. Theresa watched her, no doubt trying to decide if Lula needed medical attention.

"I am looking for some people," I said. "First of all, have you seen Mario? His court date is coming up in a few days and no one has seen him. If he doesn't come into court the Morellis and Grandma Bella could lose their house." Theresa gasped. "He's not yet in trouble, but he seems to have disappeared and Joe is getting concerned. Vinnie is getting concerned as well. He'll do whatever it takes to make sure he doesn't upset Grandma Bella." Theresa nodded. She could understand the need to avoid the eye.

"No, I haven't seen Mario in weeks. I don't know where he is. I will let you know if I see him though", she said.

Taking a winger, I pulled out the photos taken from the Internet Café security video. I don't know why I wanted to show Theresa the photos of Pendello and Kostner, but instinct was telling me there was something about the blackmail incident that was related to Mario's disappearance. She didn't recognize either of the men though. It was a long shot, but worth a try anyway.

Next on the agenda for Lula and me was Fernando. I knew Fernando better than I knew Theresa. He was a close cousin to the Morellis and the kids spent a lot of time together growing up. I have seen him many times since I started dating Joe and Fernando is a frequent participant in Joe's "guys' nights."

Fernando worked as a construction supervisor for Trentville Homes. We decided to try to talk to him at work so we drove over to the Trentville subdivision in North Trenton. We picked our way over to the construction trailer and were lucky to find him on break, drinking a to-go cup of coffee. I started to ask him about Mario when he interrupted me. "Aunt Maria said you might be by to ask about Mario", he said. "I have no idea where he is and I don't know what he is thinking. Aunt Maria put up her house out of the goodness of her heart. You don't throw that kind of sacrifice back in your mother's face. It's not right. Mothers worry and Mario would do well to remember that." Fernando threw the empty coffee cup in the trash. "If I hear from him, I will let either you or Joe know. Now, I'm sorry, but my break is up."

"Just before you go, do you recognize either of these men?" I asked. I showed Fernando the two pictures of Pendello and Kostner.

"No. Am I supposed to?" he replied.

"Nope. Just wondering." Lula and I said good-bye and left.

I was striking out. Sure, I still had Anthony to talk to, but I was feeling dejected that I could not find out anything of use. It was getting close to lunch time, so Lula and I headed off to my parents' house to try to see what I could find out through the Burg network. And while we were there we could score a free lunch.

My parents' house is located on a quiet street in the heart of the Burg. A duplex, the neighbour's house is lime-green. A chipped and faded Virgin Mary presides over the yard. The neighbour is so old she might have known the Virgin Mary in her youth. She can squeeze a nickel harder than anyone else I have ever met. Her bright green paint was the unfortunate result of buying paint in the half-price section. My parents' house was only moderately better. The bottom third of the house is brown; the upper two-thirds are yellow and there are token yellow flowers in the yard. Pumpkins decorated by my nieces dotted the steps up to the front door. Together the two houses look like a train wreck. But they are my train wreck and they always represent comfort and security to me.

My parents' house is small, with three tiny bedrooms and a bath upstairs, and a living room, dining room and kitchen shotgunned across the main floor. The living room has a couch and a couple of chairs, all facing the TV. The dining room holds six but has been known to stretch to nine and a highchair. The kitchen is the heart of the house though – small but efficient. It has just enough room for a four-seater table pushed up against the wall, where breakfast and lunch are eaten. This is where all major life announcements have taken place – engagements, weddings, divorces, pregnancies. The house always smells of good house smells – stuffed cabbage rolls, lasagne, glazed ham, roast chicken, pork chops with applesauce, spaghetti with red sauce, green bean casserole, minestrone and my favourites, pineapple upside down cake, chocolate cake, coconut cream pie and chocolate pudding. If I ever have a family of my own, I hope to have a kitchen like this one. In my mind I am a chef like my mom, able to whip together a three-course dinner without breaking a sweat. My reality is much different – I am barely able to follow microwave directions on the frozen lasagne from the supermarket.

Grandma Mazur was standing at the door as I pulled up. She has lived with my parents since Grandpa Mazur joined the mashed potatoes and gravy train in the sky. She has white curly hair, blue eyes and lots of retired muscle hanging from her arms. She always seems to know when I am coming over to visit. I used to think my grandmother had some sort of extra-sensory perception that let her know when family was coming. I recently decided, however, that she just likes to spend a good portion of the day looking out the door, spying on the neighbours. She gave us a wave and a big smile, yelling behind her to my mom we were there.

We walked up to the front door, gave Grandma Mazur a hug and asked if we were there in time for lunch. Grandma gave us another smile. "Isn't this nice, you coming by for lunch? Were you just in the neighbourhood, or are you out catching bad guys?" I ruined her day by telling her we were just in the neighbourhood. Grandma is starved for excitement and seems to honestly enjoy the stories I bring home about my job. My mother, not so much. But Grandma has an appreciation for the gruesome and macabre. She treats the local funeral parlour as her personal social club. She is seventy going on seventeen in mind and seventy going on ninety in body. Personally I think she is a hoot, but then I don't have to live with her.

"Your throat sounds sore. Are you gargling with salt water?" my grandmother asked. Every time I have a cold or a sore throat my mom and grandmother ask the same thing – are you gargling with salt water? I know it works. But it tastes awful and I would prefer to use good tasting throat lozenges. I said "yes" anyway, crossing my fingers behind my back.

We went into the kitchen. "You are just in time for lunch", my mom said. "We just got back from Giovichinni's." She hustled over to the fridge and started taking sliced ham and provolone out of the fridge, mayonnaise and mustard, lettuce and tomatoes, pickles and macaroni salad and coleslaw. She put it all on the table with plates and a loaf of bread and poured glasses of juice. We all sat down, Lula jiggling her foot as she heaped her plate with salads and stuffed a sandwich together.

"I was wondering whether you have heard anything about Mario Morelli?" I asked. The Burg gossip mill works fast and is highly effective. With residents working in all the hospitals and dispatch for emergency services, there is little that can happen in or to Burg residents without the rest of the neighbourhood knowing. I know from negative experience the gossip can move seemingly within minutes. I was hoping to take advantage of that network now.

"That Mario! He got stuck holding the bag for all those stolen TVs. Who would steal a TV, anyway? If I was going to steal something, I would become a jewel thief" Grandma said. "I would like to try that sometime."

"NO!" my mom bit out. "You will NOT try being a jewel thief."

"Well, I would like to try it. I heard Mario was working with another guy in stealing the TVs, but the other guy was never caught." Grandma said.

"Mario seems to be missing. He's not FTA yet, but Joe is worried because Mario's court date is coming up in a few days and no one knows where he is. I'm helping Joe out by looking for him", I said. "Do you know where I could look?"

"Anthony. And Tessa. And Fernando. And Theresa" suggested my mom.

"I've talked to all of those people except for Anthony. No one knows where he is", I said.

"What about Mario's girlfriend?" Grandma asked.

"Girlfriend?" We all turned to look at her. Grandma looked mighty pleased with herself, ready to spread some gossip. She sucked at her dentures, looking gloatingly at our expectant faces.

"Girlfriend", she stated. "Mario's boots have been under the bed, if you know what I mean, of Tina Girdini for about five months now." Grandma looked overjoyed to be able to tell us some new news. "That's what I heard and I think it's even true – I heard it from Franny Girdini at the Koffman viewing about a week ago." Franny is Tina's mother and we all agreed any information about Tina passed on by her mother must be true.

Talk turned to recent viewings my grandmother had attended at the funeral home. With my grandmother, viewings are the highlight of her day and she often goes three or four times per week, whether she knows the deceased or not. She likes having a reason to dress up, she likes the company and she likes the cookies. All in all, a good night out.

Lula and I thanked Mom and Grandma for lunch and I promised to gargle with salt water before I went to bed. We went back to the office to wait for Ranger. On the way we drove by Robin Hood's house, but it didn't look any more occupied than it did the last time we were there. No cars, no open curtains, no sign of life.

I parked in my spot behind the office and Lula and I went in the back door. Lula sat down on the couch and immediately started to bounce her knee up and down in a staccato rhythm. "Are there any new files for me to look at?" I asked Connie.

"Nothing new. Just the main ones – Mario, the blackmailer, Robin Hood. We might have three or four skips come in tomorrow, but I think Vinnie wants you to concentrate on those main three."

I felt a change in the atmosphere just before I felt a slight tug on my ponytail. I smelled the faint scent of Bulgari Green and I knew Ranger had arrived. "Ready?" he asked. Lula looked at Ranger and started to fan a paper in front of her face. I knew what she was thinking – Ranger in his Rangeman black fatigues was the hottest man she had ever seen. And I had to agree – Ranger was definitely fine-looking.

We got into Ranger's car. "What is wrong with Lula?" Ranger asked. "Is she overly anxious about something? She keeps shaking."

"She's on the movement diet. She believes she can eat whatever she wants as long as she moves continually to burn it off. Like, yesterday she ate ten doughnuts but doesn't think she will gain weight since she also jiggled her leg constantly."

"Thank God. Earlier I wasn't sure if she was having an epileptic seizure. Then I thought she simply had too much caffeine this morning!"


	8. Chapter 8

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 11

**Chapter Eight**

We decided to start off with Kostner. Kostner's corner is on the lower end of Stark. This area more resembles a war zone than it does a neighbourhood. Burned out building carcasses, graffiti, people with hollowed out eyes wearing gang colours. It was the kind of neighbourhood I avoided and I was glad Ranger was with me.

Ranger parked across the street from Kostner. He was standing in front of an old butcher's store, wearing a hoody too large for his body, homey pants with the crotch at his knees, basketball shoes with the laces undone and the purple doorag of the Comstark Slayers, a particularly violent gang with which I had some personal experience in the past. He seemed to be doing a brisk business, with three customers in succession. Kostner had just opened shop and those people were waiting for him to show up.

We left the car and crossed over the street. If I was leaving my car in the street, I would be worried the car would be stolen, stripped or vandalized without us there to guard it. Today I knew we would not have a problem. Ranger had driven his Porsche Turbo and in this neighbourhood only the most successful and ruthless drug dealers could afford such a car. It wasn't worth the risk for anyone to touch it.

Ranger and I moved towards Kostner, crowding him against the wall of the front of the abandoned butcher's. With both of us blocking his view of the street, Kostner's eyes grew large as he tried to bluff his way out of the situation. "What are you looking for?" he said. "Weed, smack, crack, candy, special K, crank, white…? I've got it all."

"We aren't looking for drugs. We're looking for information", said Ranger.

"Information? That will cost you", said Kostner.

"No, it won't", said Ranger quietly. "This is the kind of information can either get you into trouble or keep you out of trouble and you will tell me the truth because if you don't and I find out, you will be in more trouble than you can imagine."

"You don't scare me", said Kostner. This was a lie. We could see from the way his eyes were jackrabbiting back and forth between us and the sweat beading on his forehead he was scared. Even I was a teensy bit scared. Ranger in full combat mode was a sight to be feared and Kostner knew Ranger meant business. As quick as a snake strike, Ranger grabbed Kostner by the front of his hoody and threw him up against the wall, feet dangling, toes stretched towards the sidewalk.

"Do you know what Vincent Plum looks like? Just nod yes or no", Ranger said. Kostner nodded yes.

"Do you owe Vincent money?" Kostner again nodded yes.

"Is that for the bond or something else?" Kostner squeaked out "the bond."

"Are you blackmailing Vinnie?" Kostner shook his head no. Ranger let him drop onto the ground.

"Man, is that what this is about? I don't know nothing about no blackmailing. Honest. Would the Kos lie to you?" He paused, thinking about the possibilities. "What is he being blackmailed for? Maybe I could cash in on it. If I didn't have to pay the bond I could stay out on my corner until the police find me again." His little eyes were going wild with the possibilities. "This is a good corner. I got lots of business here. It will not be good when I go to jail. Who will pay the rent for my momma? And then there's the payments to the brothers. Do you see what I'm saying? I can't afford to go to jail."

We left Kostner and got back into the car. "What do you think?" I asked.

"I think he isn't the blackmailer, but he would like to be", said Ranger. I agreed. That's what I was thinking as well.

We drove over to the fourth block of Stark, looking for Pendello and found him talking to one of his 'hos. We ambled over to him.

"Excuse me, but we would like to talk to you for a moment", Ranger said.

Pendello replied, "Sure, did you want me or one of my ladies? And just so you know, doing a threesome with one of my ladies will cost extra."

We said we wanted to talk to Pendello. "Okay, but it will cost you. My time doesn't come cheap, you know."

Ranger took out a twenty. "I'll give this to you if I think you are telling the truth", he said. "Do you know who Vincent Plum is?"

"Sure, man. He's the dude who bonds out people. One of my ladies used him a few months ago. He sent you" and he pointed at me, "to pick her up and take her off to jail. Shonna Fleet, remember her? She was one of my best 'hos. She made lots of money for me. She's been hard to replace." He shook his head. "Just part of the business. Eventually you get caught. She'll be back out soon, though. I've been saving her corner for her."

Ranger looked at Pendello, judging the truthfulness of what he had said for a moment. It didn't sound like Pendello harboured any ill feelings for Vinnie, but what do I know? Ranger then asked whether Pendello was blackmailing Vinnie.

"No way, dude. Blackmailing is not me. Providing girls, sure. But blackmailing is a whole different ballgame. That carries a serious penalty if you get caught, you know what I'm sayin'?" Personally, I'm not sure if it carries any stiffer penalty than pimping, but what do I know? Ranger gave Pendello the twenty.

"I think you are telling the truth", said Ranger, "but if I find out otherwise I will hunt you down and make you wish you had stuck with flesh-peddling."

We got back in the car. "What do you think?" asked Ranger.

"I think he was telling the truth", I said. "He seemed to be a single service guy, sticking to what he knows rather than branching out and trying new avenues of business. And he seems to be doing alright pimping and isn't at all revengeful about his 'hos going to jail."

"That's what I thought", Ranger replied.

Ranger headed back, driving down the back alley and stopping behind the office back parking lot. Ranger looked at my car and shook his head in amazement. My car looked like Swiss cheese. Bullet holes dotted every surface as if someone had taken a machine gun to it. Glass and mirrors were smashed, fluids were leaking out of the bottom of the car and there was a note under the windshield. I sighed. This wasn't the first time my car had been shot.

I went to get the note, tiptoeing through the puddles of gas, oil and various fluids on the ground. I read it - "I saw you looking for me today. Stop it. This time your car; next time you." I shivered and took the note back to show Ranger.

"This is getting more serious, Babe. Do you have any better sense of who it is?"

"I still don't know. I spent the morning looking for Mario; I drove by Roberto's house; and I spent the afternoon with you looking for the blackmailer. It could be any one of those people, although I don't want to consider Mario as a suspect."

"Don't ever rule out a suspect until there's hard evidence, Babe. That could get you shot."

I pulled Lula, Connie and Vinnie out of the bonds office to ask them if they had seen any activity around my car. We all walked back to Ranger's car to talk to him.

"Shee-it, girl," said Lula. "You have the worst luck with cars. I don't hear nothing from inside on account of the parking being at the rear of the office and we all sit near the front. You can't even drive this car now. You know this happened because of Grandma Bella's curse, don't you?" Connie and Vinnie nodded their heads in agreement.

Ranger asked me if I would like to borrow a Rangeman car until I buy a new one. I constantly have cars out of commission for one reason or another and, when they are, I have two options I can take. I can borrow one of Ranger's cars and feel horrible for feeling indebted to him, or I can borrow my Uncle Sandor's car. Left to my grandmother when my Uncle Sandor moved into the Happy Hills nursing home and kept in the garage for family vehicle emergencies, it is a man's wet dream and my personal nightmare. A powder blue '53 Buick, it gets three miles to the gallon and corners like a tank. It is impossible to be stealthy in it; on the positive side it is free and appears to be indestructible. However, since the threats meant I currently wanted to be stealthy, I accepted the use of a Rangeman vehicle.

Two teenage girls were walking down the alley. They were talking to each other and staring at Ranger. As they passed the bonds office one of them flicked her cigarette butt on the ground, squarely hitting a gasoline puddle. The fire was instant. It raced to my car and my car exploded. The explosion set off a chain reaction – Lula's Firebird, Connie's Camry and Vinnie's Caddy were the next in succession to go. The fireball set off the alarms in the office and the smoke billowed black and heavy through the air. My cell phone rang. "This is Rangeman. Your car just went off the grid. Is everything okay?" Ranger tracks my cars on a regular basis. While I used to find it disturbing to constantly be monitored, I have since become acclimatized to the intrusion in my privacy and have periodically found it useful when my car gets stolen, exploded, or otherwise impaired.

"Yes, thanks, I'm with Ranger right now. And my car exploded. Again." I heard the smile at the other end of the line. I have car incidents so frequently Rangeman staff run pools on how long my cars will last.

"My Firebird", Lula wailed. "My Camry", Connie cried. "My Caddy", Vinnie bellowed. All three stood staring at the flames in stupefied horror.

"I have to hand it to you," Ranger said. "This was one of your better explosions." He phoned the control room and arranged for one of the fleet vehicles, a Ford Explorer, to be dropped off for my use.

I heard the wail of fire trucks, police cars and EMT trucks. I knew Morelli would be close behind. Whenever I phone something in or when something happens to my apartment building or the bonds office, dispatch calls in emergency services and then contacts Morelli. Unfortunately, this means Morelli gets called a lot.

Big Dog and Carl Constanza were the first on the scene. Carl and I took Communion together; Big Dog I met more recently. Both have been first responders to a number of my previous mishaps. Both had big smiles on their faces. "I think this is your best explosion yet!" Carl said. "What do you say, Big Dog, on a scale of one to ten do you think this is a nine?"

"Yeah", Big Dog grinned, "I should have brought marshmallows to this one."

The firefighters started snaking in hoses from the street. Morelli arrived and jogged over to me. He said hi to Ranger, Connie, Lula and Vinnie and gave me a hug. He looked me over and said "besides the hair loss, are you okay?"

"Hair loss – what do you mean hair loss?" I croaked out.

"Cupcake, you singed your hair at the back. It will definitely need cut." I immediately felt the back of my hair. Yup, hair loss definitely describes it. My eyes welled with tears.

"No, please don't cry. It's not that bad, really. Just a little trim. An inch or two and it will be as good as new. Just don't cry. Please. I hate it when you cry", Morelli said.

I took a few deep breaths and pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes, battling back the tears.

"What happened, anyway?"

Ranger told Morelli how we had come back to the office to find my car full of bullet holes and a note under the windshield. And how the girls walking down the alley had thrown their cigarette butt into the leaking gasoline, thereby accidently causing the explosion. Then Ranger showed Morelli the note.

Morelli got quiet, put his hands on his hips, stared at his shoe and counted to ten. I could see the steam rising from the top of his head as he struggled to contain his temper. When he felt he had control of himself, he turned to me and asked me whether I had any idea who could have done this. I outlined the same suspects I listed for Ranger earlier. Mario, the blackmailer, Robin Hood. "The thing is," I said, "whoever it is knows where I live." I waited a minute for Morelli to absorb this. "Because whoever it is delivered a note to my apartment this morning." I showed Morelli the threat from this morning.

"I don't like how fast he is escalating the threat" said Ranger.

"I don't suppose you would like to move into my house for the next little while until this person is caught, do you?" Morelli said.

"No, but I will come for dinner," I answered. I didn't want to say it, but this threat wasn't that serious compared to threats I had received in the past. And I didn't see any reason to uproot Rex just because of a simple car explosion.


	9. Chapter 9

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 8

**Chapter Nine **

I beat Morelli to his house that night. A few years ago he inherited a row house on the outskirts of the Burg from his Aunt Rose. It is a comfortable house similar to my parents. Living room, dining room and kitchen on the main floor; a bedroom, guest bedroom, office and bathroom on the upper floor. Over time Joe has made some changes to the house – adding a half-bath on the main floor, putting in a concrete floor in the basement, refinishing the hardwood floors. In other ways he has left the house as Aunt Rose had it. I'm glad he hasn't completely eradicated traces of Aunt Rose. I, for one, think the merging of Joe's masculine furnishings with Aunt Rose's lace curtains works.

I have a key and let myself in. Bob the dog came barreling down the hall, tail wagging, skidding on the hardwood floor and splaying his feet out in an attempt to stop before he hit me. He wasn't successful. He hit me full force, knocking me back hard enough to rattle the windows and skew the pictures on the wall. He bounced back up, dancing his happy dance, all smiley and drool-y, licked my face, then wheeled around and galloped through the house to the kitchen to get his ball. Bob's needs are simple. Playing ball and eating are Bob's two favourite things to do.

I hooked up Bob's leash and shoved a plastic grocery bag in my pocket. I hate having to carry a bag. It's not a big deal when the bag is empty but when it is filled with stinky dog poo it's impossible to look cool. We went for a short walk. Bob watered every bush, fire hydrant and electrical box between Morelli's house and the end of the street. We turned around to go back. A couple of houses away from home Bob started to hunch over. I pulled on his leash and dragged him back home, from the front of the house and through to the back. I finally released him from his leash into Morelli's backyard and left him to do his thing. Do I know how to walk a dog or what?

A few minutes after I returned, Morelli came home. He looked in the fridge. "Want something cool for your throat?" he said, passing me a beer. He pulled out a tray of manicotti. "My mom came by this morning", he said in way of explanation. We each dished a portion onto plates and took turns heating dinner up in the microwave. While the plates were heating we put cutlery and napkins on the table. Joe scooped some dog crunchies into a bowl for Bob, added some cold manicotti and mixed it in. He refilled Bob's water dish and put it all on the floor. Bob wolfed it down within seconds and looked around for more.

We put our plates on the table and sat across from each other. Bob sat beside us and stared at us, eyes moving side to side as he watched each of us in hopes we might drop some crumbs of food. Bob is ever hopeful. Just as we started to eat, the doorbell rang and Mrs. Morelli and Grandma Bella let themselves into the house. They "yoo-hoo'd" and walked back to the kitchen. I blanched.

"You!" Grandma Bella shrieked as she saw me, "you hunt Mario. You bad girl. You in trouble. You got the eye." She looked down at our plates. "You eat manicotti? You no deserve manicotti. I spit in manicotti." And she leaned over and spat in my dinner.

"Wait!" said Joe. "I asked Stephanie to help out in finding Mario. He is scheduled to go to court in a few days and no one has seen him. I was worried, but I don't have time to look for him myself. She has done nothing, absolutely nothing, wrong."

Grandma Bella hit Joe on the back of the head. "That for hunting Mario. He go to court. He good boy." And with this she turned around and walked back through the house and went out to the car. Mrs. Morelli followed behind, shaking her head and muttering something about crazy old mothers. I looked at my plate, then took it and put it on the floor. Bob wolfed down the remaining manicotti, licked the plate and looked beseechingly at Joe's plate. "Not a chance," Joe said. Bob flopped on the floor, giving a huge sigh of resignation. No more food for Bob tonight.

I looked at Joe. "Don't worry", Morelli said, "she can't give you the eye. I'm her favourite grandson."

I got a clean plate out of the cupboard, heated up another portion of manicotti and sat down again. "So, about Mario…" I said.

Joe morphed into cop mode. "Who have you talked to?" questioned Morelli.

"Your mom, Grandma Bella, Tessa, Fernando and Theresa", I said. "I just have Anthony left. And Tina Girdini, of course."

"Tina Girdini? Why Tina? I know they went to school together, but that was a long time ago", Joe said.

"The Burg grapevine says Tina and Mario have a thing together and I thought it was worth checking out. Something to do tomorrow."

"Okay, thanks, I didn't know about Tina. But we have a little time now. Do you want to go talk to Anthony and Tina together? Or is your throat too sore?"

"No, thanks. You have already talked to Anthony and I think I might have better luck at getting information from him myself. You are his brother but you are also a cop. I, on the other hand, am not." I paused. "Besides, I'm female and Anthony likes to charm the ladies. Maybe he can charm me with information." I smiled. "I was thinking instead we could just watch the game tonight. The Rangers are playing."

In an instant Morelli's eyes went from hard and assessing to dark and soft. "I was thinking we could do something else" and he reached over and pulled out the neck of my shirt so he could look down it. "Down, boy", I said. "My throat's really sore. I don't want you to catch it. You'll have to wait another couple of days."

"Okay. The game is good, too."

When the game ended I headed back to my apartment. I parked the car at the edge of the parking lot under a light and stood waiting for the elevator. I knew I really should be taking the stairs after all the manicotti I ate, but I was too tired. The elevator doors opened up and Mrs. Bestler sang out "first floor, going up." Mrs. Bestler lives on the third floor. She gets bored and often plays elevator attendant to fill her time. I said "hi" to her and told her I was going to the second floor. The elevator doors closed and, after a short ride, they opened with Mrs. Bestler calling out "second floor – shoes, handbags and better dresses." I waved good-bye and wished Mrs. Bestler a good night. I got up to my apartment and keyed open the door. Before I entered I spent a few seconds taking the temperature of the space: apartment in darkness, attack hamster undisturbed and running on wheel, everything seemed okay. I turned on the lights and looked down. Two papers had been shoved under the door while I was out. One was a Chinese food take-out menu; the other was another note. This one said "I saw the explosion. You should have been in it. Stop searching for me." I added it to the collection of notes in my bag to show Ranger and Morelli the next day.

Still no clues as to who had sent the note. All I knew for sure is it wasn't Kostner or Pendello. Ranger and I had been talking to them while my car was getting trashed. I put the note on the counter and listened to the answering machine. No messages. I checked my cell phone – it was dead. I plugged it in, waited a few minutes, then checked it again - two messages. Both were from my mom. The first message said "Billy's mother called to tell us Billy was out on the pumper truck this afternoon and he responded to a call where your car exploded. Is this true? Why me? Anna Gralenski's daughter doesn't have cars that explode; Dorothy Mayer's daughter doesn't have cars that explode. Why do I have a daughter whose car explodes?" That was a question I couldn't answer. I am a trial to my mother. The second message said "Why aren't you answering your phone? I keep calling and calling. Are you dead?"

I returned my mom's phone call; Grandma answered the phone. "Is it true another car exploded?" Grandma asked. "I heard it was a real pip of a fire, too. I wish I had seen it." I explained the reason the fire was so big was it involved four cars rather than my usual one or two. "That's my girl. That's the way to do it", Grandma said. "When you do a job, you do it right!" I asked Grandma how much ironing my mom had done that afternoon. My mom uses ironing the same way others use Ativan or Xanax. Everyone in the family knows, when the ironing basket comes out, mom is stressed and we should give her some space to iron her problems away. Grandma confirmed mom had been ironing all afternoon. Not a good sign.

My mom came next on the line. "How did this happen? And where were you? Why didn't you answer your phone?" she asked. I apologized for not answering my phone and explained it had run out of battery. I told her the car explosion was an accident and someone had shot my car, hitting the gas tank. That gas had then leaked everywhere and a passerby had accidently thrown a cigarette into the gas puddle, thus exploding the car. And Lula's, Connie's and Vinnie's cars. I didn't tell her about the notes. No point in worrying her, right?

My mom was grumbling under her breath the whole time. After listening to me she said "Peggy Sue's daughter said there is an opening on the line at the personal products plant. Why don't you apply there? You could get a good job. And no more cars would blow up!" I told her I would consider it. I wouldn't really – I generally like my job. But I think it made my mom feel better hearing I would think about it. And I didn't want to be the cause of any more ironing.

She then called my father over to the phone. "Frank! Talk to your daughter. Her car blew up again. She needs a new job." My dad came on the line. "So, you're getting a new car? Make sure you buy American. Can't trust those foreign cars. They're always breaking down." His voice became abstracted. Apparently something good came on the TV.

I hung up and put a raisin in Rex's dish. He raced over, put it in his cheek and stood there, nose twitching, body vibrating in excitement. He ran back to his soup can, diving into it with his butt sticking out. There isn't as much interaction between Rex and I as there is with Bob, but he is my hamster and I love him anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 15

**Chapter Ten**

The next morning dawned sunny and bright. I woke up at seven. My throat was more sore than the night before, so I rolled over and went back to sleep, waking up at nine. The day had started without me. I stumbled into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. There were no new notes, so I figured that was a good sign. Perhaps the person threatening me had given up the chase. Probably not, but it's always good to be positive.

While the coffee was brewing I went in the shower. I washed off, drying my body and pulling my hair back into a ponytail. I brushed my teeth, got dressed and put on two coats of mascara and some cherry lip gloss. That was as good as it would get today.

I went into the kitchen and poured some coffee into my favourite yellow happy face mug. I went to the fridge and looked inside. No milk. No cream. I looked for food to eat. No bread. No cereal. No bagels. Just some peanut butter at the bottom of a jar and a couple of cans of beer. Pretty pathetic, I thought. I looked at the front of my fridge and saw my shopping list. It said "buy everything." I grimaced as I drank my coffee black and made a mental list of what I needed to do today. Get hair trimmed. Buy food. Talk to Anthony and Tina. See if Connie has any new skips for me to chase. I needed the money to buy a new car.

I phoned my hair stylist, Mr. Alexander, to make an appointment. He was available in half an hour. Slapping a ball cap on my head and grabbing my messenger bag and keys, I left my apartment. I opened the door and saw the note sender left me another message. This one was simpler – in red paint that had dripped down my door was a single word: "Die." I took out my phone and snapped some pictures, then headed down to the basement.

The basement of the building is where the laundry facilities and storage lockers are. It is also where Dillon lives in his superintendent's apartment. Dillon says he likes living in the basement. He thinks the dryers emit a comforting scent of fabric softener. With flickering fluorescent lighting and no windows though, I think it more resembles somewhere where trolls might live.

Dillon is a good guy. About my age, he keeps the apartment building in good repair and is always nice to me. And for a six pack of beer he will do almost anything. He is always in good humour. There is little that goes on in the building that he doesn't know about, but for some reason he doesn't hold that against me.

I knocked on Dillon's door. When he answered I explained the problem. "No worries," he said, "I still have some paint left over from the last time your door was vandalized." I told Dillon there were a couple of cans of beer in the fridge for him, thanked him and went out to the parking lot.

I walked out to the Rangeman vehicle. I walked around inspecting it but could not see any evidence the vehicle had been tampered with. All good. I got in the car and drove to Mr. Alexander's in Quaker Mall to get my hair trimmed.

Mr. Alexander – and no one who wants to get their hair cut by him would dare to call him anything other than "_Mr._ Alexander" – was fairly philosophical about the damage to my hair. "It's not the worst I've seen. Now, when we had to get the cement out of your hair that time, _that_ was the worst I have ever seen. This is nothing" and he called over his assistant to take me back to wash my hair.

A half hour later I emerged from the salon with newly trimmed hair. It was moussed and styled and sprayed to within an inch of its life. Knowing I now looked presentable, I headed off to talk to Anthony. I tried him first at home. He wasn't there, but his wife, Angelina – Angie for short – was. She came to the door with a baby on her hip.

"Hey, Steph, nice to see you! How are you doing?" We exchanged the usual pleasantries before coming to the heart of why I was there. "I heard you are looking for Mario?" Angie said. I confirmed that yes, I was looking for Mario. I headed into my spiel about how Mario was due in court in a few days and no one has seen him in almost two weeks. I told her how Joe was getting worried Mario would not show up. And I told her the Morellis could lose their house if that happened. Angie turned white. She didn't want to be in the position of being required to host Grandma Bella in her house if the Morellis lost theirs'. She said she hadn't seen Mario in over three weeks and as far as she knew neither had Anthony.

I showed Angie the pictures of Kostner and Pendello and asked her if she recognized either of them. She said no. "Am I supposed to? Are these guys somehow related to Mario?"

"Probably not. Just trying to dot all my "i's" and cross all my "t's"", I replied. Truth was, I didn't know why I kept showing those pictures. For some reason I kept thinking they were related, but I didn't know why. Maybe it was my sick-muddled brain, but I couldn't connect the dots.

"I heard Grandma Bella cursed you with the eye the day before yesterday?" Angie asked. We both shuddered. "Yes," I replied, "and it seems to be working already. I have developed a sore throat, had my car shot and exploded and I am getting death threats from some mysterious person, but I don't know who it is. Even worse, I had to go to Mr. Alexander this morning to get two inches of singed hair trimmed off. And I wasn't even due for a cut!"

"I thought your hair looks good. Shorter, but good." Angie smiled. The baby smiled and drooled, turned red-faced and stuck his finger up his nose. See, here's the thing about babies. I love them when they are smiley and smelling good from the bath. Then they have to drool and poop and put their finger up their nose and they lose all their appeal. But that's okay. I guess not everyone is lucky enough to have a hamster.

I headed off to Anthony's work. Anthony is a chartered accountant working out of an accounting firm. He was with a client. I read a travel magazine while I waited for him. Not as good reading material available in his waiting room as there was at the hair salon, but at least the pictures were good. Half an hour later, Anthony came to the front desk, waving off his client before coming over to give me a kiss and a hug. "How are you doing, darlin'?" he said. I smiled. Like Mario, Anthony was a bit of a jerk. But like all Morellis he was a charmer and I liked him. I followed him into his office.

"I just came from visiting Angie. Joe asked me to look into Mario's case. He comes up for trial in a couple of days and as far as I know nobody knows where he is or even if he will show up for court. Joe's getting worried. Vinnie wrote his bond and he is getting worried as well. And to be honest, now that I am looking for him and can't find him, I am getting worried too. Vinnie wrote the bond using your mother's house as collateral. If Mario doesn't show up to court, Vinnie is legally able to take your mom's house. And you know what that means – someone will need to house your parents and Grandma Bella." At that Anthony grimaced. "Do you have any idea where I could look for Mario? I just want to talk to him, to make sure he remembers his court date and to see if he needs a ride to court or something", I croaked out.

"No, I don't know where he could be … wait … what about Alex's place? Alex Lipinski and Mario were always close friends throughout school. Alex and Mario were always getting in trouble together. I have always privately thought Alex was the other person who stole the TVs with Mario. It just seems like the kind of thing Alex would do. You could try his place."

I showed Anthony the pictures of Pendello and Kostner. Anthony didn't recognize them either. I didn't expect he would. But for some reason I kept feeling there was a connection to the blackmailing.

I thanked Anthony and left the office. "That's great", I thought, "two more leads and five days left to find Mario."

As I walked back to the Explorer my cell phone rang. "I made some chicken noodle soup. Why don't you come home for lunch?" my mom asked. I didn't have any plans. And homemade chicken noodle soup sounded good to me.

When I got to my parents' house my grandmother and mother were waiting in the doorway. They asked me how I was feeling and felt my forehead for a fever. "Are you gargling with salt water?" my mother asked. Again I said "yes". I would go to hell for lying to my mother. And I added salt to my mental shopping list.

There is something about going home when you aren't feeling well. Having someone to cluck over you and make a fuss makes you feel a bit better. You may not feel physically better, but you feel loved and that makes you feel better overall. This was no exception to that rule. By the time I left, filled with chicken soup and fresh bakery bread and butter, my throat was just as sore but the compassion and love filled the hollow left behind by the threatening notes.

I drove to the office and parked in the back. The burned car carcasses had been removed from the parking lot, but the scorch marks remained on the pavement and smoke marks remained on the side of the building. In the other three parking spots were three rental cars.

I entered the office through the back door. "Thank God you're here", Connie exclaimed. "I was just about to call you. Vinnie is going nuts. Ranger is on his way here. There has been another threat sent to Vinnie's email." I could see Ranger's car pull up to the curb. I waited for him to come in the office. He came over and gave me a kiss, then together we entered Vinnie's inner sanctum and shut the door. Vinnie was staring at his computer screen, face white and eyes unblinking. He looked frozen in fear. Ranger and I sat down.

"What's up?" asked Ranger.

"What's up? What's up? That fucker sent me another blackmail threat, that's what's up!" Vinnie yelled. Some colour came back into his face. "I don't understand why this is happening to me. I try to be a good person. Sure, I gamble a bit. And I have a wide range of sexual tastes. But I always help old ladies across the street. Well, I did once anyway. But you know what this fucker wants? This fucker wants the money to be left in the train station under the bench closest to the underwear ad. How will I make the drop? I don't have the money. Please tell me you are closer to finding out who the blackmailer is. I have to have the money by Sunday. Today is Tuesday. What will I do?"

I thought it ironic the drop was supposed to be at the underwear sign.

"You received the threat by email again?" asked Ranger.

"Yeah, I did."

"Did you talk to Joyce and Joey yet to see if they received similar emails?"

"No, I haven't yet."

"Stephanie and I will talk to Joyce and Joey in a few minutes to see what is happening at their end. Can we trace your emails again?" Vinnie said we could.

I went out to see Connie. Connie pulled up the telephone numbers for Joyce and Joey and wrote them down on a piece of paper. I went back into Vinnie's office and shut the door. I called Joey first and asked her whether she had received another email from the blackmailer. She confirmed she had. I then asked her for the instructions the email contained. "I'm supposed to take the money to the train station and put the money under the bench near the dog food advertisement. And I have to put the money there on Sunday before eleven o'clock."

"The dog food ad? Are you sure?"

"Yes. That's what it says. I don't have the money. What will I do?" she wailed.

"Don't panic. We'll think of something. Do you mind if we trace your email again?" Joey confirmed this would be okay.

"Don't worry. We will catch this guy." I got off the phone and relayed the information to Ranger and Vinnie. I could see a pattern emerging – Vinnie at the underwear ad, Joey at the dog food ad. I couldn't wait to hear where Joyce was supposed to do her drop.

Next on the list was to phone Joyce. While I was happy I didn't have to see her, I really didn't want to call her either. I looked at Ranger. "My throat is sore…" I said in my most pathetic voice.

Ranger smiled. "Chicken", he said. He picked up the phone and called Joyce.

I could hear his end of the conversation. Yes, she had received another blackmail note. Yes, she was asked to drop off the money on Sunday before eleven o'clock. Yes, she was asked to drop it off under the bench at the train station, but she was asked to drop it near the safe sex advertisement at the train station. I smiled at that. Yes, we could access her emails again to see if we could trace the emails. No, he was not interested in getting together for drinks. No, he was not gay. Ranger shook his head and got off the phone. "And you're interested in her, why?" he asked Vinnie.

"She's easy. And she does everything."

Ick. Too much information.

Ranger phoned the control room at Rangeman. He asked Rafael to trace the emails and to get back to us.

I looked at Ranger. "I think it is time we head over to the train station", he said. On the way out of the office we noticed Lula was sitting still, not moving in the slightest.

"What's going on?" Ranger asked Lula. "You aren't vibrating anymore!"

"That was the movement diet. It don't work. I gained five pounds in the last three days, can you believe it? It was supposed to work. It was simple. All I had to do was to keep moving. I thought I kept moving enough. 'Course maybe you were supposed to keep moving when you were asleep. What do you think? You're in shape. You should know. Was I supposed to keep moving when I was asleep?"

"No, I don't think so. I think you are just supposed to exercise."

"Exercise? I'm not putting up with that shit. If I exercise I get out of breath. And I sweat. That don't look good in my clothes. It is hard to look fashionable when you got sweat running down your face and between your boobs. And how can you exercise in heels? I need my Via Spigas to show off my legs. Exercise, hunh."

Ranger stared at her for a moment in amazement. He shook his head and walked out to the car. As I followed Ranger out to the car I was thinking I could understand where Lula was coming from. It is hard to look good with sweat running down your face.

We got in Ranger's car and drove to the train station, finding parking several rows away from the platform. See, that is one of the differences between Ranger and myself. Ranger parks in the first spot he sees – I drive around for five minutes trying to make sure the spot I found is the one closest to where I wanted to go. And after finding one I then get mad if someone else takes it while I am looking for one even closer.

We walked to the platform, searching the walls for the three different advertisements. We found them in a row, one right after another along the back wall close to the end of the platform. There seemed to be nothing special about the benches. Made out of recycled plastic lumber, they rested on concrete legs. There was a space under each of the benches. There was no way of seeing through the slats of lumber to see an envelope underneath. The person picking up the envelope will have to reach down and pull it out from under the bench.

Ranger got a call back from Rangeman. Rafael confirmed all three emails originated at one o'clock from the Internet Café. Ranger and I went back to the car and drove to the establishment. When we entered we saw the same manager on duty. He recognized us and greeted us with a smile. I guess the twenty dollar bill we gave him last time was greasing our way today. We again asked him to see the security tape for the day. He took us into the back room, pulling the tape up on the screen. We fast-forwarded to 12:55 and then looked at the tape at regular speed. At 1:00 there were three people using the computers. It was hard to see faces due to the scratchiness of the tape, but it appeared all three people were different from the previous computer users. No Mario, no Pendello, no Kostner. We asked for a copy of the tape again, giving the manager another twenty dollar bill. We left with our tape and climbed into the car. Ranger drove me back to my car at the bonds office.

"It will take me about an hour to get this tape back to Rangeman and to allow Rafael a chance to clean it up. It's almost dinner. Why don't you come to Rangeman and we can review the tape and then have dinner?"

I agreed. That gave me just enough time to do some grocery shopping before I had to go to the Batcave.

Leaving Ranger's car, I hopped into the Explorer. I had the choice of going either to Giovichinni's or to the Shop and Bag to buy my groceries. At Giovichinni's I would have a lesser array of food choices but a better deli and I could further milk the Burg gossip mill about Mario. However, I would know just about everyone and would be required to talk about the car explosion – not such a good idea with my sore throat. So I drove to the Shop and Bag. I grabbed a shopping buggy and manoeuvered it down each the aisles. Milk, cream, cereal, bread, peanut butter, crackers, cheddar cheese, olives, beer, juice, bagels, cream cheese, sliced ham, sliced Swiss cheese, bananas, frozen lasagne, body wash, paper towels, toilet paper, sanitary napkins. Baby carrots and raisins for Rex. And salt. Can't forget the salt. And I could get it all in the car without having to meet anyone I knew. Good deal.

I drove back to my apartment, parking as close to the building as I could. No point in carrying my groceries farther than I have to, right? I took the elevator up to the second floor and walked down the hall to my apartment. Dillon had worked his magic – the door to my apartment was threat-free.

I stuck my head in my apartment. All seemed quiet and safe. I put away the groceries and fed Rex a cracker. Rex ran to his dish and shoved it in his cheek pouch. He sat staring at me, whiskers quivering, for a few seconds before scurrying back to his soup can. I changed his water and told him I would be going out for dinner. I told him he would have to be a good guard hamster and to protect the apartment. I always try to let Rex know when I am going somewhere so he doesn't worry about me.


	11. Chapter 11

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 20

**Chapter Eleven**

I met Ranger in his office on the fifth floor of Rangeman. We reviewed the cleaned up version of the security tape, but still could not recognize anyone. Ranger printed off the pictures of the computer users and fed the pictures into the facial recognition programs. Leaving the computer to do the work, we headed up to Ranger's apartment.

We were stumped. There had to be a connection between one of the three users from today with one of the six users from the other day. We just weren't seeing it. "Don't worry," Ranger said calmly, "we'll figure it out." I have worked previous cases with Ranger and I know his philosophy is to not get caught in self-doubt but rather to keep taking steps forward, even if they are just baby steps. He was using this same philosophy now. I wasn't quite as certain as him that we could solve it, but I was willing to try being positive.

Ella brought our dinner up to us. It looked and smelled delicious – medium rare steak, baked potato, asparagus, tossed green salad. No dessert. Ranger never has any real dessert. Fruit sometimes, but never any real dessert. I wasn't hungry anyway and sat playing with my food.

"You okay? You're not eating", Ranger asked.

"Sorry – I feel pretty bad. My throat hurts, my body aches and I feel cold and sweaty, both at the same time."

Ranger put the back of his hand on my forehead. "You're burning up." He went to the cupboard and came back with a bottle of pain reliever capsules. He dispensed two and gave me a glass of water to take them with. He then went to the phone and called Ella to ask her for some lemon juice and honey. Ranger led me over to the couch and instructed me to sit while he cleaned up dinner. He boiled some water in the kettle. When Ella came up he mixed the hot water with the lemon juice and honey. He then brought it over to me and told me to drink it. "It's the Manosa cure for sore throats. The honey soothes the throat; the lemon juice cuts the phlegm", he said.

I smiled. "My mom's cure is gargling with salt water", I said.

"That works, too. This one tastes better." I tasted the drink. It did taste pretty good.

Ranger got a blanket from the closet and put it over me. He sat behind me so I was leaning in against him, put his arm around me and turned on the TV. He kissed the top of my head and told me to finish the drink.

The last thing I remember is putting my mug on the coffee table and falling asleep.

In the middle of the night I woke up struggling to breathe. There was a weight lying across my chest. I panicked until I realized the weight was an arm. I opened my eyes and looked around. I was in Ranger's bed. I checked my body – I had a t-shirt and underwear on. It didn't feel like my t-shirt. As I fully woke up I vaguely remembered Ranger carrying me to bed, undressing me and putting one of his t-shirts on me to sleep in before tucking me in. The shirt was now damp, my teeth were chattering and I was freezing. Ranger stirred. He leaned over and tested my forehead again. "You're still running a fever, Babe." He put the light on, got up and got me another couple of pain relievers and a glass of water. While I was taking them he got me a clean, dry t-shirt to wear. He helped me switch shirts. Ranger turned off the light and cuddled in like two spoons in a drawer. "Don't worry, you'll be warm soon." He gave me a kiss on the top of my head and I relaxed and warmed up. My teeth stopped chattering and I fell back to sleep.

I woke up the next morning to the sound of the water running in the shower. I lay in bed, feeling crummy. My throat was still sore, my teeth were chattering and I was freezing again. I was tired but my body ached and I felt too sick to sleep. Ranger came into the room with a towel around his waist. "I hoped you would sleep longer. How are you feeling?"

"Terrible", I croaked out.

Ranger came over and placed his hand on my forehead. "You are still burning up", he said, "and your clothes are soaked again." He went to the cupboard and threw me a clean t-shirt and a sweatshirt and sweatpants. "I know these won't fit, but they will keep you warm now you won't have my body heat beside you. You can wear one of your Rangeman uniforms when you leave here later. Your own clothes are damp. I put them in the hamper for Ella to wash today." He got dressed in a Rangeman long-sleeve black t-shirt that fit him like a second skin, fatigues and put his gun on at his hip. He was dressed for work.

I put on the dry clothes and struggled to not shiver.

"The facial recognition programs will have finished running by now. I will get you more pain relievers, then go down to my office to have breakfast there. I hope you will sleep more. In a couple of hours I will bring some breakfast up to you. While you eat breakfast we can review the results of the facial recognition programs. Then I will take you to the medical clinic so you can have your throat looked at." When I grimaced he added "it's not good to have a fever as high as you have, Babe. It means something is wrong."

"You don't need to baby me. I'm good to go. And you don't have to take me to the doctor."

"Will you go if I don't take you?"

I didn't say anything. The truthful answer was "probably not." It seems like it would require way too much energy to go to the doctor's. All I really wanted to do was stay in bed and feel sorry for myself.

"That's what I thought", he said. "I'll be up again in a couple hours." He dispensed more pain relievers and gave me a glass of water. After I had taken them, he gave me a kiss on my forehead and tucked me into bed. The last sound I heard was the whisper of the front door sliding shut.

The next time I woke up Ranger was sitting on the side of the bed. He started to smile. "Are you a little hot?" he asked. I looked down at myself. I had kicked off all the blankets and had partially stripped off Ranger's sweatshirt in my sleep. I felt like I was on fire. I pulled the sweatshirt the rest of the way off my head and took off the sweatpants. Ranger helped me sit up and fluffed the pillows for me. He handed me another mug of hot lemon and honey and an apple bran muffin. I burned my tongue on the drink before putting it on the bedside table to cool, broke off a piece of the muffin and popped it in my mouth. It hurt to swallow.

I have to say I was a little surprised by Ranger's behaviour. Sure, I know he has been my saviour many times in the past and he always takes care of me to the best of his abilities. But usually taking care of me has encompassed hounding me to get into better shape, giving me shooting lessons, lending me cars, hiring me for short periods of time so I can pay the rent, tracking my whereabouts and lending me a stun gun or hand gun to use. The tenderness of taking care of me when I was sick was a whole new side to him and I have to say I liked it. It made him seem more human and it made me feel protected and loved.

"What's in the file?" I rasped out, pointing at the file folder in Ranger's hand. I winced from the pain.

"Pictures of the computer users. And their names and an outline of their files. Each of them has a record, although they vary in degrees of seriousness. One person hasn't had a misdemeanor since they were in high school; the second was for hiring a 'ho; the last was for armed robbery. The armed robber is the person that was the most interesting to me. I'd like you to look at them while you drink your lemon and honey."

I nodded my head. It was so much easier than talking.

I took a sip of the drink and leafed through the file. The armed robbery was done by Carlos Ramirez. Carlos was the cousin of Benito Ramirez, a violent boxer with whom I had some terrifying experience in the past. When I first started working as a bounty hunter I had run into Ramirez. At that time Lula was still a 'ho and Ramirez punished her for talking to and ultimately giving information to me. The punishment included torturing her then leaving her on my fire escape for me to find, cut, beaten and bloody, in the morning. Lula still experiences pain periodically from her injuries and she likely always will. Benito went to jail for what he did, but got out early for good behaviour. This good behaviour did not extend to his life out from behind bars. He became my stalker and was finally killed before he could inflict any physical damage on me. Emotional damage is another story. I still, a few years later, have nightmares about Ramirez and wake up in cold terror.

I looked over Carlos Ramirez's file. He was about ten years younger than Benito and had a long list of misdemeanours starting with possession of marijuana when he was a juvenile and progressing through dealing drugs and stealing cars to finally armed robbery. He held up a convenience store five years ago, shooting but not killing the store clerk. He was caught on security tape and recognized by the investigating officer. Takedown of Carlos was fairly straightforward, as was the trial. Jury deliberation of the case took just fifteen minutes, with the accused found guilty. Ramirez was sentenced to ten years in prison. He is now out after five, early dismissal due to exemplary behaviour while in the slammer.

While I wanted to make sure Ramirez was off the street if he was the person responsible for the threats, it didn't feel right. How would Ramirez know about Vinnie? And how would he figure out who Joyce and Joey were? I voiced my concerns to Ranger.

"True, but what do you think about him as the person behind the threatening notes at your apartment and the ventilation of your car?" Ranger asked.

"I don't think so", I responded. "The threats seem somewhat benign compared to what Carlos would do. Of course, that is assuming Carlos Ramirez is as revengeful and vicious as his cousin Benito."

"Have you had any more threats after your car exploded?" Ranger asked.

"Yes", I replied. I ate the last mouthful of muffin and climbed out of bed to get my messenger bag from the front door. I pulled out the growing file of threats and my phone, noticing I had three missed calls. I showed Ranger the last paper note, as well as the pictures of my front door. Ranger sat thinking for a moment.

"If it was Benito, I would agree with you that these notes are too tame. He's just too violent a man to be so pussyfooted in his threats. However, we don't know what Carlos is like. This might be exactly his style. I would like to talk to him today, but I don't want you with me when I do so. I'll take Tank with me instead." Fine by me. Tank is Ranger's right-hand man and has had Ranger's back since his Black Ops days. At 6'6" he is built as his name suggests. Dressed in Rangeman black he is an imposing figure that would scare the bejesus out of anyone with half a brain.

I looked at the second file. Gabriel Cortez, aged seventy. Looks like he's going on ninety-seven by the picture. Apparently time has not been kind to Mr. Cortez. Caught for picking up a hooker. Only problem was the hooker was an undercover police officer and Cortez got caught in a sting operation. No known priors. He owns his own house in the Empire/State area of Trenton. His wife is deceased and he has three kids, all grown, with kids of their own. His bank accounts are solvent and his financial portfolio is solid. The name and details didn't ring any bells for me. "I don't have a read on this", I said. "I can't see any reason Cortez could be the blackmailer; of course, I also can't see any reason Cortez wouldn't be the blackmailer either. But it doesn't make sense to me." I put the Cortez file down and picked up the remaining file. I sat up higher in the bed.

"This is it", I said excitedly. I felt like Christmas had just arrived early. I was looking at the file of Alex Lipinski. When Ranger looked at me questioningly, I explained my research of Mario had revealed that Alex was Mario's long-time and best, friend. I also explained Burg gossip has Alex as the second man in the TV thefts although that wasn't proven as Mario would not give up the name of his accomplice. But knowing what we knew, it would stand to reason it was possible Alex and Mario were working together on the blackmail scheme.

I looked over the file. Alex lives in Hamilton Township, just outside the boundaries of Trenton. He rents an apartment, was divorced and has two young sons from his previous marriage. He has a job as a truck driver with a trucking company that works solely for a local brewery. His bank account statements show his alimony takes up much of his pay cheque with little left over for personal use. "This is him", I said, "I know it in my heart of hearts."

"Okay", said Ranger, "this is what we will do. You can get ready to go out while I review the information we have on Lipinski and see if I can bring anything else up. Your toothbrush and hairbrush are in the bottom drawer in the master bathroom from the last time you stayed over. Then we will take you to the doctor's. After that I will bring you back here and you can have a nap." When I started to protest I didn't need a nap, he said "it will be important for you to rest if you want to get better. While you are sleeping, Tank and I will go out to talk to Ramirez. You can then have dinner here – Ella is making you something special. You are welcome to stay the night again. Tomorrow we will go together to talk to Alex. Do you have any other leads besides Alex?"

"Yes. I have already talked to his wife, his brothers and two of his closest cousins. However, I haven't yet talked to his girlfriend", I said. "We are running out of time, though. It is Thursday. Mario is due in court on Monday. The money drop is supposed to happen on Sunday. I don't have time for a nap or even to be sick at all. We need to talk to these people now", I said.

"No, you need to get better. None of this is important if you let yourself get sicker – your health is the most important thing. Now get ready and I'll take you to the doctor's." He left the room with the files and went into his office to phone Tank to make arrangements. I quickly showered and got dressed in my Rangeman uniform, taking a couple minutes to check my messages. Two were from Joe. The first was "Hi. I got an attempted murder a few minutes ago and won't be home until late tonight. I'll try to give you a call later. Hope you are feeling better." The second was "Hey, Cupcake. Just checking in. I won't call again tonight in case you are sleeping. Hope you're feeling better. Love you!" The third message was from my grandmother. "Your mother and I were just wondering how you are feeling. Did the salt water help?"

I also got four text messages from the office. The first was from Vinnie. It said "Have you found the little fucker yet?" The second was from Lula. "How're you feeling? Do you want to go car shopping today?" The third was from Connie. "I have four new files for you to take a look at. Come on into the office to pick them up." Great! New files – I hope they are the bounty hunter dream – high bonds but easy capture. I needed the money to buy a new car. As nice a car as the Explorer is, it isn't mine and I don't feel right about borrowing it for the long term. The fourth text was also from Connie. "Silvio Mendez's killer is coming up for trial on Tuesday. You could capture Roberto at the trial." Good idea, but I didn't want to be taking down Robin Hood in front of all those cops. Of course, on the other hand, I might not have an option if I wanted to take him down. That may be my only chance. And as my mother would say, beggars can't be choosers.

I joined Ranger in his office. We took the files and put them in my messenger bag, put on our Rangeman Gore-Tex jackets, Ranger's hiding his gun and mine not needing to and left the apartment. Mr. and Mrs. Ranger out for the day.

Ranger drove me to the doctor's office. "You will like this doctor", he said. "This is the doctor I use for all the Rangeman physicals and whenever any of my staff get sick. He's very good at what he does and doesn't seem to be fazed by gunshot wounds or stabbing incidents. I took the liberty of making an appointment for you to see him in about 20 minutes." He parked the Porsche Turbo in the parking lot and escorted me to the doctor's office. He signed us in, handing me registration forms to fill out. By the time I had finished filling out the forms it was time for me to go into the examining room. Ranger found a seat with his back to the wall and a good vantage point to the room, picked up a copy of National Geographic, stretched out his long legs and crossed his ankles, leaned back in the chair and settled down to flip through the magazine.

The doctor came in soon after I got into the examining room. He took my temperature; looked in my ears; shined a light down my throat, at the same time as he pushed down my tongue until I started to gag; palpitated the glands in my throat; and, listened to my chest. He made a lot of "hmming" noises. When I was finished he told me I had a bad case of strep throat and I needed to be on antibiotics. He prescribed me a five-day course, saying I should feel much better after 24 hours. Then he went out to the waiting room to talk to Ranger.

"She has strep throat. I have put her on a strong antibiotic – two right now and one every day thereafter for the full five days of treatment. She needs to take all her medication, get plenty of rest and drink plenty of fluids. She will be contagious for the next 24 hours, so no swapping of bodily fluids or sharing of glasses or cutlery. If there isn't any improvement in 24 hours, come back and I will prescribe a different antibiotic."

Ranger and I thanked the doctor and picked up my prescription at the adjoining pharmacy. Ranger drove me back to his office.

"Tank and I will go talk to Ramirez. You need to go upstairs and have a nap."

"I don't have time to nap!"

"Yes, you do. We have to talk to Ramirez this afternoon anyway" Ranger said calmly, "and I don't want you there for that. Besides, the doctor said you have to rest if you want to get better. And it is important to me you get better."

"I don't think I can sleep", I said stubbornly.

"Then watch TV, Babe", Ranger said in an exasperated tone. "Just rest, okay? I promise I will take you with me when I go to talk to Alex and Tina."

"You promise?"

"Yes."

"Okay." I figured that was as good a deal as I would get. And besides, I didn't really want to talk to Ramirez. Anything to do with Benito gave me the willies.

Ranger walked me up to his apartment and got me a glass of water and some more pain capsules. He handed me my antibiotics and waited until I took them. He then left to meet up with Tank, taking the files with him.

I got my phone out and texted Vinnie. "Working on it." I texted Lula. "Sick. Will catch up with you in a couple of days." I texted Connie. "Thanks for the files. I'll pick them up tomorrow." Then I set about texting Morelli. I was wimping out. I knew I really should call him, but I also knew Joe would ask about my search for Mario and I didn't know what to say to him – "hi, I think your brother is a blackmailer" didn't seem like it was an appropriate or compassionate thing to say. Besides, it also seemed like a conversation that was better had in person rather than over the phone. I would only have the conversation over the phone if I didn't have any other choice. I knew, if Mario was the blackmailer, Joe would find it very upsetting. After all, family is family. And I didn't want to say anything to Joe in case I was wrong. Why upset the apple cart if you don't need to? So I worked on a text for a few minutes, writing and erasing until I finally thought I had something suitable to send. I ultimately settled on "Hi. Sorry I missed your calls last night. I fell asleep on Ranger's couch and ended up spending the night. Ranger took me to the doctor and I have strep throat. Am currently going back to sleep for a while. Miss you!" I figured that was truthful but deflects any information about what really happened. Somehow I thought Ranger undressing me and putting me in his bed was information Morelli didn't need to know. And even though nothing really happened with Ranger, it somehow felt like something had happened. Sure, we didn't have sex, but Ranger took care of me in a way no one has taken care of me since I was a little girl living at home. It felt nice. And I didn't know what to think about that.

I took off my pants and jacket and climbed into Ranger's bed. I pulled up the quilt and sighed. Ranger has the best bed – the softest sheets and a quilt just the right weight and warmth. I closed my eyes and that was the last thing I remembered.

A few hours later, Ranger came and sat on the edge of the bed. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead. Dinner is out on the breakfast bar. Ella made you her famous chicken noodle soup, guaranteed to make you feel better."

I put on my pants and one of Ranger's sweatshirts. Bowls of soup were cooling on the table and warm fresh bread was sitting in a bread basket between the two place settings. A pink rose was added in a bud vase on the centre of the table. Definitely Ella's touch. A glass of orange juice was sitting at my spot; a glass of water at Ranger's. "You need your vitamin C, Babe", Ranger said. A bowl of fresh cut strawberries was provided for dessert. No whipped cream. No ice-cream. No custard. Just strawberries. But at least it was some form of dessert.

I tried the soup. It was delicious. Full of carrots, peas, fat egg noodles, chunks of chicken and something I think were leeks, the flavourful broth was soothing on my throat. I ate three-quarters of the bowl before I got full, which was a full-quarter more than I thought I could eat. And although the strawberries looked like they would be sweet and juicy, I was too full to have dessert. I finished my orange juice under Ranger's watchful eye. He felt my forehead and grimaced. It appeared I was still running a fever. He made me another hot lemon and honey drink and brought over a couple of pain relievers for me to take. We cleaned up the kitchen and moved to the couch. Ranger got me a blanket. He put his arm around me and I cuddled into the side of his body. When I was nice and comfy and feeling safe and secure, I drank the hot lemon drink and asked him what had happened with Ramirez.

"It took Tank and I awhile to find Ramirez. He wasn't at the address the probation officer gave us and he wasn't at any of his known haunts. We finally got lucky and saw him propositioning a 'ho in front of Lucky Lenny's Off-track Betting. We followed the two of them around the building and waited until the 'ho got Carlos's pants down. Tank and I then went over to talk to him. We didn't have to persuade him to talk. He didn't seem to have any love for Benito and was happy to tell us about it. Apparently Benito used to practice some of his enforcer techniques on Carlos – Benito gave him a broken hand, a broken foot, a twisted knee and a dislocated shoulder, the last one twice, as well as several broken ribs over the years. Benito's family had disowned Benito when he was a teenager, which I guess is when Jimmy Aldo took him in." Jimmy Aldo was Benito's manager. I also met him a few years ago, at the same time as I met Benito. He encouraged Benito's violence and got Benito involved in a drug trafficking scheme. This eventually got Jimmy killed; I was the one who shot him. It is one of those times in my life I don't like to think about. Ranger, sensing where my thoughts were headed, said gently "you had to do it, Babe. It was Jimmy or you. You know that, right?" He paused to let that sink in, waiting for my tentative nod before he continued. "Anyway, Carlos was happy Benito was dead and said everyone in his family were equally glad to know he was off the streets. Apparently Carlos wasn't the only one in the family to be the recipient of the Benito's torture practice sessions. My sense is he is not the person threatening you, or blackmailing Vinnie either." I agreed with him. He turned on the TV and found a Terminator movie. Halfway through the movie I fell back asleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night with a sense of déjà vu. An arm was wrapped around me and I was sleeping in spoon fashion in the bed with Ranger. I vaguely remembered Ranger carrying me to the bed and undressing me again. This time he left my Rangeman shirt on and just took off my pants, my socks and his sweatshirt. Ranger felt me stir and woke up. He felt my forehead. "Do you need any more pain relievers?" he asked. I shook my head no. He snuggled me in closer and I fell back to sleep enveloped in the comforting scent of Bulgari Green.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of the shower. Ranger walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He smiled when he saw me awake. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better", I told him. "Still not one hundred percent, but definitely better."

Ranger came over, felt my forehead and smiled again. "I think your fever has finally broken. You should be on the mend now."

"That's great. You'll finally be rid of me. I'm sorry I keep falling asleep here."

"That's okay. I liked it." We both paused for a moment to absorb the meaning of that. It was something for me to think about later. Because to tell you the honest truth, I liked it as well. And that was a problem. Ranger is addictive. And I'm not sure being addicted to Ranger is in my best interest.

"Are you up for talking to Alex Lipinski and Tina Girdini today? I would like to go soon. I want to catch Lipinski before he goes to work."

"Absolutely", I answered. "Just let me get ready. I'll meet you for breakfast in fifteen minutes."

"I'll let Ella know." Ranger headed into his closet to change. I headed into the bathroom with my newly cleaned clothes to shower and brush my teeth.


	12. Chapter 12

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 13

**Chapter Twelve**

We decided to see Alex first. On the way to Alex's apartment I phoned Morelli. He asked me how I was feeling.

"Better", I replied. "The antibiotics are definitely working."

"I tried calling you at your place last night. I guess you were sleeping."

"No", I replied, "I ended up crashing on Ranger's couch again last night." I could see the corners of Ranger's mouth twitching into a smile. I lightly punched him on the shoulder and gave him a mock glare. "He didn't have the heart to wake me up." I heard the steam rising from Joe's head. There was a silence on the phone as he got himself under control. "Are you going to yell?" I asked.

"No. I'm not. I'm trying to be thankful he was there to take care of you when you were sick and I was busy with this attempted murder. I'm trying to be understanding. Am I succeeding?"

"Yes. Thank you for trusting me."

"Oh, I trust you. It's Ranger I don't trust."

I got off the phone before Joe had the chance to ask about Mario. "For the record, Babe, if you were my girlfriend I wouldn't be so understanding", said Ranger.

Something else to think about.

We drove to the other side of Trenton to get to the apartment where Alex Lipinski lived. It was early in the morning and traffic was light. We got to the apartment in record time.

Lipinski lived in an apartment building located in a sketchy neighbourhood. No landscaping, no balconies, no fire escapes, no security system, no elevator. Four floors high and surrounded by cracked asphalt stained from years of leaking car oil. Alex lived on the third floor. Ranger and I climbed up the stairs to his floor, walking down a hallway that still smelled of stale odours from cooking the night before, to Lipinski's apartment. We knocked on the door. The door whipped open. It was Lipinski, dressed in a stained t-shirt and jeans too tight for him. The button at his waist was undone and he smelled of day-old beer. "Yeah?" he asked. "What can I do you for?" He smiled an oily grin, reached down and scratched his privates.

Ranger introduced us. "Oh, yeah, I know you", Alex said to me. "You're that chick Joe's banging, aren't you?"

Ranger continued, outlining how Mario was coming up for his court date and the family was getting worried since they hadn't seen him in a few weeks. And how the family had asked us to find Mario to see if he needed any help getting to court on Monday.

Alex started to get agitated. "Don't look for him too hard", he said. "Mario has plans and those plans don't involve going to jail."

"Do these plans involve sending blackmail threats?" Ranger asked.

Alex turned white. "What do you know about sending any emails?" Alex demanded. "I didn't send any emails."

"What about Mario? Did he send any emails?"

"No, I don't think he sent any emails. I wouldn't know for sure, of course, since I haven't seen him, but I'm sure he didn't send any threats." He smiled his oily grin at us again. His eyes shifted from side to side as he looked back and forth between Ranger and me. He was nervous and we could almost smell the fear emanating from his beer-soaked pores.

'That's funny. Because we have it on video the two of you did send emails from the same location as the blackmail threats originated, at the exact same time as the two blackmail threats were sent. Using security footage, I think we could prove very easily Mario was the person who sent the first of the blackmail threats and you were the person who sent the second of the threats. And when we prove that, Mario will have a lot more to worry about than simple charges for theft." Ranger looked at Alex for a minute. He then said "Please pass that message on to Mario for us."

We left the building in silence. "What do you think?" I asked.

"I think he wet himself back there. And I think we should watch the apartment for a little bit, because I think he will lead us directly to Mario." We sat in the car and watched the building. I phoned my mom and had a quick call with her, telling her I was on antibiotics and I was okay. And yes, I had bought more salt so I could gargle with salt water. Ranger's lips started to tilt as I told my mother that. "Hot lemon and honey tastes better", he whispered. I nodded my head in a fervent yes, all the time listening to my mom.

After an hour, Alex ambled out of the building. He had on a clean shirt and different, better-fitting jeans. He got into an old, rusty clunker of a car even older and in worse condition than mine had been. We followed him out of the parking lot straight to the trucking company. Alex parked and got out of the car. He ambled over to the building and went inside for ten minutes. He walked out with a to-go cup of coffee and got into the brewery truck. He started up the truck and set out. We followed him from a discreet distance to the brewery, where he appeared to fill the truck with cases of beer. We then followed him to a couple of pubs and bars where he off-loaded some of the cases. "I was wrong. Looks like he won't see Mario right now", Ranger said. "It may be a better use of our time to talk to Tina instead."

We headed over to Tina Girdini's house. Tina still lived in the Burg, in the upper floor of a single-detached house converted into three apartments. We rang the doorbell for the top floor. "Just a minute" we heard from an upstairs window. We waited a few minutes before Tina came down to answer the door. "Sorry", she said, "I was in the shower when you got here."

We introduced ourselves. "Stephanie Plum, of course! I remember you from school. You were a few years younger than me, right? I read about you in the paper a while back. You were the person who burned down the funeral home that time?" A couple of years back an unfortunate incident happened at the funeral home. Grandma and I were caught in the basement with some killers. Grandma shot her gun at the murderer, missing the killer completely but hitting a box of guns and ammunition. The box exploded and the funeral home caught on fire. Burg gossip attributed the fire to me. It's an incident I don't think I will ever live down.

"It was an accident", I said.

She shook her head. "It was a beauty of a fire. I remember seeing the pictures in the paper." I remembered the pictures as well. They weren't the most flattering pictures I've ever had, with my hair a mess, my face red from the fire and my eyebrows and eyelashes singed off. It's definitely not the way I want to be remembered. "You're going out with Joe, now, right?"

"Yes, we're seeing each other. But today we are here to talk to you about Mario", I said. "Mario is due in court on Monday and his family is getting worried because they can't find him. Mrs. Morelli put her house up to secure the bond. If Mario doesn't show up for court, the Morellis could lose the house. If that happens, Grandma Bella will be very upset. And no one wants to get Grandma Bella upset. Whoever upsets Grandma Bella could get the eye." Tina turned white but started shaking her head.

"Mario will make sure the Morellis don't lose their house", Tina said. "And he won't go to jail. He's got a plan and everything is going the way it is supposed to. You don't have to worry. Grandma Bella won't be moved out of her home."

"Can we talk to Mario?" I asked.

Tina quickly looked behind her and then back at us. "I don't know where he is right now", she said. She shifted from one foot to the other. "You can tell Joe and the rest of the Morellis Mario is fine and he is taking care of everything." She quickly shut the door on us.

Ranger and I left. We were fairly certain Mario was in Tina's home, but since Mario is not yet FTA we didn't have the jurisdiction to go in and get him. "I think Vinnie should seriously consider making this into a police investigation based on what I have seen", said Ranger. "If Mario is already up on stolen property charges, it would make sense to ensure his blackmailing scheme is considered when he goes to court. A possible second charge may be a factor in Mario's sentencing." I agreed, but I didn't think Vinnie would want to go public about the blackmailing and with Mario being Joe's brother, I didn't want to "unofficially" bring Joe into the case like I have so many times in the past.

I called the office to check to make sure Vinnie was in. Connie said he would be there in about twenty minutes, just after he finished bonding out a hooker. Ranger and I decided to head over to the bonds office to wait for him there. We parked in my spot in the back and entered the office through the back door.

"How are you feeling?" asked Connie and Lula. Lula's voice was muffled as she was wearing a full hazmat suit.

I looked at Connie and raised my eyebrows in question. "Better, thanks", I answered. "I'm not contagious anymore."

"Oh", said Lula, "then I guess I don't need to wear this hazmat suit no more." She undid the zippers and stepped out of the suit. "I don't want to catch whatever you had. And I've always wanted to wear one of those suits. They look so space age-y. I got this one in exchange for some services I provided back when I was a 'ho. But then I never had a chance to wear it. Now I've tried it I'm not so impressed with it. It's hot inside and it messed up my hair." She patted her hair back into place. "How can people wear those all the time? They must permanently have bad hair days."

I didn't have the heart to tell her that, if you are required to wear a hazmat suit, you probably have more important things to worry about than how your hair looks.

Vinnie came into the office. "Do you have my blackmailer?" he cried.

"Not exactly", said Ranger. "It is a little complicated. Let's go into your office to talk about this" and Ranger led Vinnie and I into Vinnie's office. He shut the door and we all sat down. "We are fairly certain the blackmailers are Mario Morelli and Alex Lipinski, Mario's close friend", said Ranger. "We have video evidence that Mario was at the Internet Café when the first blackmail threat was emailed. We have video evidence that Alex Lipinski, was at the Internet Café when the second blackmail threat was emailed. Stephanie spoke to Mario's brothers, parents, wife and grandmother. None of these people have seen Mario in over a week. We spoke today with Lipinski, who denied knowing where Mario was, as well as denying they sent any blackmail threats. However, he knew the threats were made over email without us telling him. And his body language showed he was nervous. We also spoke with Tina Girdini, who is Mario's mistress. She also denied knowing where Mario was, although her body language made us suspect he was in her home at the time we were talking to her. Because Mario isn't yet FTA, we did not have the authorization to go in and retrieve him. She said Mario believes he has a plan allowing him to avoid jail at the same time as protecting his parents' house. I can only assume this involves getting a substantial amount of money and buying back the bond from you. I guess the plan is he would then fail to appear in court, thereby avoiding jail time. It's not the best thought-out plan, since he would be taking money from you in order to give it to you. I really think it is time to bring in the authorities."

"NO! I don't want the police brought in on this. I can't have this information made public. And I'm sure Joey and Joyce would say the same thing. No. Absolutely not."

"Okay, then how do you want to have Stephanie and I handle this? Do you want to stake out the train station on Sunday? The good news and bad news is he picked Sunday, a day when the train station isn't very busy. It will be easy to see who is picking up the envelopes, but it will also be easy for the person picking out the envelopes to see us staking them out. Now, do you want to put dummy money in envelopes and tape them under the benches? Or do you want to avoid putting anything under the benches at all? What would the three of you like to do?"

Vinnie thought for a moment, shaking his head. "Mario Morelli? That fucker. I can't believe it. I don't want to give him anything! Can we stake out the train station?"

"Sure. But if you don't want to involve the police, what do you hope to achieve? We can catch whomever is picking up the envelopes, but we can't do anything with them. You really need to involve the police. And you need to involve Joyce and Joey in this conversation. I am sure the police will be discreet."

Vinnie thought for a moment, looked at me and smiled. "I will only involve the police if I can deal with Joe. He will keep this quiet because it is his brother. Call him, Steph, and see if he can come in this afternoon to discuss this."

"I don't think that is a good idea", I said. "It's not fair to Joe."

"I don't care", said Vinnie. "It's not fair to me I am being blackmailed either. If you want me to call in the police, I will only deal with Joe. Call him to see if he can come in this afternoon."

"I think you should also give Joyce and Joey the chance to be included in that meeting", Ranger said. "This shouldn't be just your decision; it affects all of you."

Vinnie looked at me. "Make a meeting time with Joe for two o'clock and I will invite Joyce and Joey. Let's get this fucker."

I went out the back door and, standing in the sun, leaned against the soot-stained side of the building. I phoned Morelli, praying I got his voice mail. I wasn't lucky enough. Joe picked up on the first ring.

"Cupcake", he said, "how are you?"

"Crappy", I answered.

"Is your throat still sore?"

"Yes, but my throat is the least of my concerns. Remember how I mentioned that Vinnie is being blackmailed? Ranger and I think we have figured out who the blackmailer is. Which is great. Except we think the blackmailer is Mario." There was silence on the other end of the line. "Vinnie has finally agreed to call in the police, but says he will only deal with you. He figures you have a vested interest in making sure this stays quiet. And he hopes you can come to a meeting with him and hopefully Joyce and Joey, this afternoon at two o'clock."

"Fuck." Morelli's expletive was succinct but heart-felt.

"Yeah, I agree. It's been a terrible few days", I said.

"And I thought the attempted murder case and you staying at Ranger's was bad. This thing with Vinnie is a cluster-fuck waiting to happen."

"I know", I commiserated. "Will you come? Should I invite Joey and Joyce?"

Morelli sighed. "Yeah, I'll come. Is Joyce Barnhardt the Joyce you are talking about?"

"Yes. And Joey Trimble."

"Fuck. Joyce Barnhardt. My day just keeps getting better and better. See you at two."


	13. Chapter 13

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 19

**Chapter Thirteen**

Ranger and I decided to go check out my apartment to see if I had received any more threats while we waited for two o'clock. I picked up my new files – four new cases – on my way past Connie's desk and put them in my messenger bag. I figured I would look at them later when I had more time. I joined Ranger in his car and we drove to my apartment. We got in the parking lot and out of habit looked up to my apartment. The window from my fire escape to my bedroom was broken. This didn't look good and I was glad Ranger was with me. I didn't want to see what state my apartment was in and having some moral support was appreciated. We took the stairs up to the second floor and walked down the hall to my apartment. The door wasn't fully shut. Ranger motioned to me to stay in the hall. He withdrew his gun and thoroughly searched the apartment. "It's clear", he called out to me, "although you have a huge mess to clean up."

I walked in the apartment and immediately went into the kitchen. The food I had just bought was dumped all over the floor. The fridge and freezer doors were ajar and condiments were smeared on the counters and cupboard doors.

I ran over to Rex. There was a note on his cage. It said "This time your apartment trashed. Next time it will be your hamster. Stop looking for me!"

I looked in on Rex. I could see his butt through the end of the soup can. He wasn't moving. I couldn't tell if he was asleep or whether he was upset over my apartment. I picked a raisin off the floor and placed it in his dish. He ran out of the soup can, whiskers twitching in glee, stuffed the raisin in his cheeks and scurried back into the soup can. He didn't seem traumatized by the condition of the apartment and, I thought if he could handle it, then I should also have enough courage to inspect the rest of the space.

I looked across the living room at Ranger. He had his hands on his hips, staring at the devastation surrounding him. Couch cushions were slashed and shredded, bathroom toiletries and make-up were ground into the carpet, clothes were thrown all over the floor. Books and magazines were ripped, my laptop was trashed and wooden furniture was broken into bits. My eyes filled with tears. My apartment wasn't filled with expensive things – mainly with rejects from various family members. However, it was mine and I liked it. I found it comforting to own and use Aunt Ethyl's old coffee table and Uncle Vernon's old couch. It made me feel loved. And now I didn't have it. I sniffled.

Ranger came over to me and enfolded me in a tight hug. "It's okay. You're safe. And Rex is safe. That is what's important. Don't lose sight of that. The rest of this? It's just stuff." He gave me a kiss on the top of my head and wiped a tear from my cheek. I did some deep breathing and got myself under control. "Do you want me to call Morelli? You should try to see if there is anything missing." I wandered around my apartment, dazed by the devastation. I couldn't see how I could tell if anything was taken. I had started to pick up clothes when Ranger stopped me. "Morelli will need to see the apartment the way it was left for you, not the way it will be after you clean it up. He will be here in about five minutes. Do you want to wait for him in here or do you want to wait for him in my car?"

"In truth, all I want to do is go back to bed! I've had enough of today."

"I don't blame you. It's been a tough couple of days."

I went back into the kitchen to look after Rex. I changed his water bottle and refilled his dish with hamster crunchies. I picked a carrot off the floor, rinsed it and added it to Rex's food dish. Rex scurried out of his can, overjoyed at the extra bounty I was giving to him. He vibrated with excitement, staring at me in stupefied pleasure. He wheeled around and scurried back into his soup can. Excitement was over.

Morelli knocked on the door and entered. He whistled. "Wow – what a mess." He came over and gave me a quick hug and kiss. "Is there any chance you have been able to identify whether anything is missing?" He went to my cookie jar and nodded to himself in satisfaction when he saw my gun was still there.

"How will I tell whether anything is taken? Everything is all over the place, all mixed up together. And so much is broken. I can't tell what I have here, let alone what I don't have."

"I know. I will call in some uniforms to come fill out an incident report. I want them to canvas your neighbours as well to see if anyone saw anything. Have you received any more threats, other than this vandalism?" When I nodded my head he said "after I get off the phone I want to review all the threats you have received. I'm sure Ranger has already looked at them, but I want to see if I can see something, too. At the very least it will give me an idea of what you've been dealing with over the past few days." Morelli called in the uniforms.

I righted the dining room table and got the file of threats out of my messenger bag. I laid them out in order on the table, placing my phone in the middle of the table where the fourth threat was supposed to be. I explained to Morelli how and when each of the threats were given, including the pictures of my vandalized front door. Morelli got quiet and put his hands on his hips. He had the "not happy" serious cop look on his face. I showed him the last note from Rex's cage. "That's sick!" he said. I pointed out that the good thing is the person threatening me obviously doesn't know how to pick locks, otherwise they would have picked the locks to my front door rather than breaking the window. "That doesn't give me any comfort, Cupcake. If you hadn't been at Ranger's, you could have been here when they broke in. And that could have been bad news for you. I can't believe I am saying this, but I'm glad you were at Ranger's rather than at home. Please tell me you won't stay here tonight. Stay with me. Stay with your parents. Hell, even stay with Ranger again. But don't stay here tonight."

A couple of uniforms came to the door and Morelli broke off talking to me to go talk to the officers. He gave them all the information I had given him. They came into the apartment with cameras and took pictures and wrote up an incident report while I went down to the basement to ask Dillon to come back with me upstairs. He came up, saying "I didn't hear anything at all. Nobody mentioned anything unusual to me." He walked into my apartment and gasped. "It certainly didn't look like this the day before yesterday when I fixed your door. I will put some boards over your window as soon as I am allowed to and will arrange to have it fixed as soon as possible. Don't worry, Stephanie, we'll get this place looking good again." It is nice to have friends like Dillon.

"I have to do my cop thing", Morelli said. He gave me a quick kiss. "Ranger will take you to lunch. Can you please pick me up a sandwich and bring it to the bonds office? I won't get time to eat otherwise." I said I would. Ranger picked up Rex's hamster cage and went down the elevator to the car with me. We got in, putting Rex in the back seat. We drove to Giovichinni's and bought sandwiches at the deli counter. Ranger got tuna and sprouts on multi-grain with a side salad, no dressing. I got a ham and Swiss on a ciabatta roll. We bought a club for Morelli with a bag of chips. We phoned Connie. Connie wanted a Greek salad, extra olives and Lula wanted a Rueben sandwich with a tub of macaroni salad and a tub of coleslaw. Vinnie wasn't there – he was probably out having a nooner with a duck. Again. We got bottles of water for everybody and took the feast back to the office.

After eating my lunch, I pulled out the files Connie had given me that morning. The first was a low-level bond for Benjamin Williams, no priors. Wanted for purse snatching, Williams had approached a senior citizen with a cane while she was taking a walk in the park. Williams took off with her purse. Unfortunately for Williams, the lady took the cane and tripped Williams as he tried to get away. Williams hit the ground hard enough to knock him out, at which point the lady called the police. He lived on Empire Street, near State. His sister put up her television as collateral.

The second file was a medium level bond for armed robbery. Aaron Kimmel went into a convenience store and identified himself as Maori Man. He robbed the store for over three thousand dollars and a couple of boxes of chips. It didn't say why he was known as Maori Man, but I would be sure to ask him when I picked him up. His place of residence listed was on State Street, near Stark. He put up his car to insure the bond.

The third file was a high level bond. This woman, Dorothea Pringle, another Burg resident, stole the identity of her next door neighbour. Over five hundred thousand dollars were charged to the neighbour in a variety of credit card scams over the period of a year before Dorothea was caught. All of Dorothea's belongings and investments were seized as a result of the investigation. Her father put up his house to secure the bond.

The fourth, Caden Kenchiro, was also a high level bond. Caden was wanted for vehicular manslaughter. He was having problems at work with his boss. His boss threatened to fire him because of Caden's poor attitude. So Caden waited in his car at the end of the day and, when his boss left the building, Caden ran him over with his 4x4 truck. When picked up, Caden was more concerned with the blood and bone splatters on the truck than he was by the death of his former boss. This was the second time Caden had killed someone in such a manner.

Same old, same old. I put the files back in my messenger bag. "Do you want to go hunting tomorrow?" I asked Lula. "After this meeting I will take the rest of the day off, but I was thinking tomorrow we could talk to Robin Hood's family and perhaps follow up on some of these new files."

"I'm ready to go whenever you are", avowed Lula. "I could hunt their scrawny little asses all day. You just let me know what time to meet you and I'll be ready." We arranged to meet at the office whenever I got there. I didn't want to be tied down to a certain time in case I could sleep in a bit. My throat was still quite sore.

Vinnie, Joyce, Joey and Morelli all arrived at the office within minutes of each other. We sat in the outer office; Vinnie's inner office was too small to hold that many people. I sat on the couch with Lula and Joey. Joey sat on the edge of her seat, hands tightly folded in her lap. Connie sat in her usual spot behind her desk. Nobody wanted to sit near Joyce, so Joyce moved some files and sat on the corner of Connie's desk, angling towards the men and crossing her legs to let her skirt ride up to better show her assets. Ranger lounged against the wall in a spot where he could see everybody. Joe stood near Ranger, feet planted wide on the floor and hands placed on his hips. The only clue as to the turmoil within was the tightness in his body language. Vinnie paced in his small space – two steps one way, two steps the other – looking more like he was a dog chasing his tail than a man who was pacing. Vinnie stopped pacing and started the meeting.

"As all of you know, Joyce, Joey and I have been blackmailed."

"What are you being blackmailed with?" Joe asked.

Joey winced. "A video showing Joyce, Joey's dog and myself in some compromising sexual positions. Did you really have to know that?" Vinnie bit out. Lula's lip curled but surprisingly she didn't say anything.

"Yes," said Joe. "I just wanted the context of the blackmail threat." I could tell it wasn't really that he wanted the context of the threat. I knew Joe had asked just to make Vinnie and Joyce squirm.

"Anyway", said Vinnie, "I asked Stephanie and Ranger to look into the blackmail threats."

"Why didn't you call the police?" interrupted Joe.

"Because I didn't want to involve the police when I didn't know what was going on and because I hoped I could solve it in house. And I didn't want this video getting out. Joyce, Joey and I all have reasons to avoid making this video public, if you really want to know." Vinnie was getting frustrated. I looked at Joe. He looked perfectly composed, but his eyes showed he was having mischief at Vinnie's expense. I guess he was getting his licks in before the Mario connection came out.

"So, as I was saying, I asked Stephanie and Ranger to look into the threats. I will hand this meeting over to Ranger so he can tell you what is happening." Vinnie started pacing again.

"With your help," Ranger nodded to Joyce, Joey and Vinnie, "Rangeman traced the emails back to the source, an internet café on State. We accessed the security videos and saw there were six people in the café using the computers at the time the original threats were sent. We have copies of the video for you, Joe, if you want to see them. Of these six people, we identified five. Two of these people have no criminal records, no connections to any of you and no motive for blackmail. The remaining three have criminal records. One is a pimp, one is a drug dealer and the third has been charged with theft. The pimp and drug dealer did not appear to have strong motives or the connections to identify the three of you. Even so, Stephanie and I spoke to the pimp and the drug dealer. After speaking to them we decided it was unlikely either of these people were the blackmailer. I have more details, Morelli, if you would like me to outline them later." Ranger nodded to Joe. "This left the thief as a suspect."

"The break in the case came when the blackmailer sent a second email, this time outlining the drop directions. Again, we traced the emails to the same internet café. We accessed the security video. Again, Joe, I have copies of the security video for you. At the time the emails were sent, there were three people sending emails. All three have criminal records. One was a seventy year old man who was charged with propositioning a hooker. It was a first time offence. He did not have any ties to any of you and had no motive. We did not feel this person was a good candidate for the person who was blackmailing you. The remaining two people were more interesting. The first was Carlos Ramirez." Lula paled and Morelli threw a glance at me. The Ramirez name struck fear into more than just my heart. "Carlos is the cousin of Benito Ramirez, a felon with which the bail bonds staff have had some experience. It was due to this experience Benito was put in jail and ultimately why Benito died. Tank and I went to talk to Carlos. He did not seem to have any love for Benito. He had been tortured by Benito as a boy and seemed happy Benito was dead. Additionally, although he had ties to the bonds office he did not have any ties to either Joyce or Joey. It didn't feel like a good match."

"The third computer user was the most interesting of the three. This person was only wanted for small crime from when he was a juvenile, but more interestingly, he was the close friend of the person who we suspected from the first round of emails." Joe had removed his hands from his hips and stood clenching and unclenching his fists. His cop eyes were hard and unflinching; I could only guess how he felt. "The person who we suspect sent the first round of emails is Mario Morelli and the person we suspect sent the second round of emails is Alex Lipinski."

"We had been tracking Mario anyway, as he is due in court soon and it appears he is a flight risk. Mario's bond is being held by Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. His parents' house was put up as collateral to insure the bond. Stephanie had already talked to his parents, his grandmother, his brothers, his wife and a couple of his cousins. Nobody had seen Mario for at least a week. However, we knew he was in town and had just gone underground since we had seen him on the video. Stephanie found out the names of Mario's best friend and his mistress. Together, Stephanie and I went to talk to those people this morning. Mario's best friend seemed to know what we were talking about when we talked about the blackmailing but was not giving us any information other than what we could ascertain through body language. His mistress was more interesting. Through body language she indicated Mario was in her apartment at the time." Joey gasped.

"Why didn't you arrest him?" Joey cried out.

"We couldn't. We aren't the police. We could only have captured him if he was deemed failure-to-appear, but he isn't FTA until Monday. And that's only if he doesn't show up for court."

"His mistress", Ranger continued, "said Mario had a plan which helped him avoid jail on Monday at the same time as protecting his parents' house. Our assumption is the plan is to blackmail you for the money to pay off the bond and then to skip town to avoid jail."

"Now, the question is what you want to do with this information and what you would like to do about the blackmailing?" Ranger asked.

There was silence in the room. Everyone looked at each other, then at Joe. Joe was looking down at his shoe, hiding his thoughts and feelings from everyone. When no one said anything, Ranger jumped in again. "Mario's trial is scheduled for Monday. Today is Thursday. The money drop is scheduled for Sunday. What I would suggest is we fill envelopes with blank pieces of paper and have each of you place your envelope under your bench in the train station. Then, I think we should have people undercover at the train station to see if Mario or one of his friends show up. I doubt Mario will be the person doing the pick-up since he knows we are on to him. When the person collecting the ransom shows up, we could then capture the person and get further information both on where Mario is hiding as well as the motive behind the blackmailing. What do you think, Joe?"

Joyce interrupted the meeting. "How will you handle this, Joe? We are talking about your brother here. If we capture him, how can we be sure you just won't let him go?" Everyone in the room took a collective gasp. Only Joyce would have the audacity to question Joe's professionalism.

"And what happens if Mario isn't caught and he gets angry when there is no money in the envelopes? I can't have this get out!" Joey was panicking again. "Maybe it is better to just come up with the money and pay off Mario."

"Are you insane?" Joyce cried. "If we pay Mario once, he will never stop blackmailing us. He will come to us every time he needs money." We all nodded. As much as I hated to admit it, I agreed with Joyce.

Joe let everyone think about the situation for a minute. Then he jumped in. "I really think the plan Ranger has laid out is the best one. The key is to put pressure on the blackmailer in order to get him to show his hand. There is a time limit on this for us – not only do we have the drop scheduled for Sunday, but we have the court date of Monday to aim for. If Mario doesn't come to court on Monday, Mario will be FTA and we will legally have the help of the bail bonds office and Rangeman to find and capture Mario."

"I just want to catch the fucker. That little shit will continue to bleed us dry if we pay him now. Let's go with the bait and switch plan Ranger and Joe have come up with." Vinnie got agreement from Joyce and, reluctantly, from Joey.

"We will make the envelopes up at my office", said Joe. "I will need phone numbers for you where I can contact you on Saturday and I will let you know your instructions then. In the meantime it will be important for you to continue to keep this quiet. Except for the people directly involved in this at my office, I will also respect your privacy and work to keep this quiet."

The room was quiet. "That's it, everyone. Thank you for coming", Ranger said. Everyone got up to leave. Joyce and Joey left first. Vinnie shook Ranger's and Joe's hands and escaped into his office, leaving Connie, Lula, Ranger, Joe and myself in the outer office.

"Wow. A dog? That's disgustin'. I always thought Vinnie's relationship with the duck was a tall tale, but now I'm not so sure", Lula huffed. "I've done a lot of things as a 'ho, but a dog? That's just wrong. A girl's got to have her standards, do you see what I'm saying? And how do they train a dog to do that?"

"Peanut butter", I answered.

"Hunh", Lula said. "I may never eat peanut butter again. And that will be hard as I considered that to be one of my main food groups." I nodded my head. I considered peanut butter to be one of my main food groups as well.

"Where to now? You said you wanted to have a nap – do you want to come back to my apartment for the night?" Ranger asked when we got back in the car.

"No, thanks for the offer, but I think I better go to Joe's tonight", I answered.

"Probably for the best."

Ranger dropped me off at Joe's house, saying he would have Rangeman drop the Explorer off in front of the house within the hour. I started to search for the keys to the car to give to Ranger. He just looked at me. "Keep them." Duh, of course he wouldn't need them to operate the car. Rangeman staff have superpowers.

Ranger carried Rex into Joe's house for me and put him on the kitchen counter, the whole time avoiding Bob as Bob danced his happy dance between and around Ranger's and my feet. Ranger patted the top of Bob's head and scratched behind his ears and under his chin. Bob's tail whipped back and forth. Ranger walked back to the front door. Bob ran to get his ball and came back to Ranger, dropping his ball at Ranger's feet. Ranger took the ball and threw it down the length of the house. He gave me a quick kiss and went back to his car to return to Rangeman.

I sat down on the step and cuddled Bob. "I missed you", I told him. "It's been a strange few days. I feel terrible and Ranger looked after me. It was homey, like we are in a real relationship. And I don't know what to think about that. Then there is my apartment getting trashed and I don't know what to think about that either. The threats seemed so benign until they threatened Rex. Most importantly is this thing with Mario. You will have to be extra nice to Joe, because he is going through a lot right now. No eating any clothes or furniture, okay? I will have to be extra nice to Joe as well. I'm not sure how Mario thinks he will get away with this." I shook my head and rubbed Bob's ears. I locked the door and went upstairs. I took off my pants and socks, climbed into bed and covered my head with my pillow. I was asleep within seconds.

I woke up at five the next morning to the weight of Joe's body wrapped around me and the sound of the alarm going off. Joe moved his arm to shut off the alarm. Now this is the thing about the men in my life. They wake up alert and ready for the day. Not me. I snuggled into Joe and wrapped my arms around him. "Sorry, Cupcake. Not today. I have an early morning meeting at the precinct about this Mario thing. I have to brief my supervisor. I didn't get a chance to do it yesterday." Joe jumped out of bed and into the shower while I stumbled down to the kitchen to make coffee. As I scooped out coffee and put water in the coffee maker, I started to wake up. By the time Joe was out of the shower and dressed I was fully functioning. I poured a coffee for Joe and myself.

"I'm sorry about last night. I was wiped out", I said.

"I knew your throat was bothering you. And when you didn't wake up when I came in I decided to let you sleep. I figured the sleep would do you good. How do you feel today?"

"Better. How about you? How are you feeling with all this Mario stuff?"

"I don't know. I don't want to believe it, but the evidence is overwhelming. Ranger emailed me copies of the security tapes yesterday and it was definitely Mario and Alex on the tapes. I want to talk to Alex and Tina myself today, but I don't expect I will find out anything different than you did with Ranger." He paused.

"But I'm angry, too", he said. "I've spent much of my life cleaning up Mario messes. He was always in trouble as a kid. And I was always the one who had to take care of it before Mom found out. And I usually got blamed for it when it did come out. This will break her heart. I'm not looking forward to telling her.

"And to think Mario could be behind the threats to you?" Joe continued. "That makes me crazy." He enfolded me in a hug and lightly kissed me on the lips. "I have to walk Bob and then get going. I noticed a Rangeman car out in front of the house last night. Are you going car shopping today, or what are you doing?"

"I'm picking up Lula later and going in search of Robin Hood as well as some new files that just came in."

"Well, go back to bed and get some more sleep before you head out. Take it easy on yourself. Remember you aren't one hundred percent yet. I love you! Will I see you tonight?" I nodded and he was gone. I went up to bed and tried to go back to sleep. Bob bounded in, back from his walk and jumped up on the bed. He laid with his back against mine, stretching out with his head upon Joe's pillow. He sighed. Life was good in Bob-land. I tossed and turned, trying not to disturb the dog. Life wasn't good in Stephanie-land. My stomach felt squishy and my chest felt tight. I didn't like this situation with Mario. And I didn't like the threats to myself. Finally I got up. Apparently over twelve hours of sleep was enough and I couldn't hide from the world any longer.


	14. Chapter 14

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 10

**Chapter Fourteen**

After breakfasting, showering and changing into the spare clothes I leave at Joe's, I took black garbage bags over to my apartment. Boards had been put up over the hole in the bedroom window. The devastation in the apartment struck me anew. Someone had to have a lot of rage to effect that kind of destruction.

I went into the bedroom and sorted clothes into a "ruined" pile and a "needs to be washed" pile. I put the "ruined" pile in a garbage bag and the "needs to be washed" pile into a laundry hamper. I then cleaned up the food in the kitchen, putting the whole mess into another garbage bag. I tried to clean up the bathroom toiletries with limited success. I would have to come back to clean up the rest, but at least I had clothes and the food wouldn't rot and stink up the place.

I carried out the garbage bags and put them in the dumpster. Grabbing a laundry hamper full of dirty clothes, I locked up my apartment and drove to my parents' house. My grandmother was waiting at the front door.

"Is it true your apartment was vandalized? I heard it was a real mess. Jamie Green's son was one of the responders. We heard about it all afternoon yesterday", Grandma asked in way of greeting.

"Yes, it's true. Is mom ironing?"

"Yes, she ironed all afternoon yesterday. There's nothing left to iron. Is that a pile of clothes to wash?" I confirmed it was. "Good. That will give her some more clothes to iron. Yesterday she ironed the same shirt six times because she ran out of clothes."

"Does this mean she will iron my underwear again?"

"Probably", Grandma answered.

"Damn", I thought. I didn't think the apartment destruction was worth underwear ironing. After all, I have been in much worse scrapes. But what did I know?

We went into the kitchen. Mom was making breakfast for her and Grandma. She offered to put some more bacon in the pan and asked me how I would like my eggs. I asked for scrambled. Preliminaries now aside, she started in. "Millie Myowski's daughter doesn't have vandals attacking her apartment. Why do I have a daughter with a ransacked apartment? And why would they do such a thing?"

"I don't know", I said. "I'm not even sure who vandalized the place. I'm just glad Rex was okay."

"Rex was okay!" Mom gave a half-sob and looked towards the cabinet where the liquor is kept. Deciding it was too early in the day, she gave herself a little shake and continued "I'm just glad you weren't there! You might not have been okay."

"I'm glad I wasn't there, too." My mom piled crispy bacon and scrambled eggs onto my plate and added a couple of pieces of toast. After missing breakfast the night before and having an early start to the day, I was hungry. I spread jam on the toast and started to eat.

After breakfast I sorted my laundry into piles. "If you leave your laundry here, I will do it", my mom offered. I was thankful. I had a lot to do today.

I got to the office at nine o'clock, getting there just before Lula. This gave me the chance to look over Robin Hood's file. Roberto Mendez had four children. Three were still living. Two live in the same neighbourhood as Roberto while the third lives in Hamilton Township. I decided we would go visit the one in Hamilton Township first, followed by the two in Trenton proper. Lula came into the office.

"I don't know what the world is coming to these days! My rental car has a cheap-ass sound system in it. You crank it up and you can hear a whine in the music. How is anyone supposed to appreciate music with a whine in it?" Lula exclaimed. "I'm going shopping for a car this weekend. I'm not putting up with this whining shit any longer. There should be a law against it." She said "hi" to Connie and asked me whether I was ready to go. "Can we take your car? You've got the Rangeman vehicle and I bet Ranger puts good stereos into his cars. I can't see him putting up with a whine." I couldn't see Ranger putting up with a whine either, but I also couldn't see Ranger putting money into upgrading stereos in his fleet so staff could listen to the stereo cranked. He discourages the use of a stereo at all in his staff cars, the better to listen to the police band and any radio communications from the control room.

We got in the car. Lula immediately turned the music up to teeth jarring and body vibrating level. I could feel my heart starting to enter arrhythmia in response to the music. I immediately used the steering controls and turned the music down. "Hunh", Lula said and tried turning the music up again. Using the steering controls I immediately turned the music down again. This happened three more times before Lula decided the radio must be broken. "I never thought Ranger would have a broken stereo in his car", she said. "But I guess even Ranger can't be perfect." I didn't say anything. Ranger seemed pretty perfect to me.

We drove out to Hamilton Township and parked a couple of houses down the street from his daughter's house. Carla Rodriguez was married and had two children. Both children were school-aged. The house was a single-detached. There was a beige four-door Corolla in the driveway. We could see the backyard from where we sat and could see clean laundry out on the line, waving in the breeze. The neighbourhood was quiet.

We got out of the car and went up to the front door. "Who we going to be this time?" Lula asked on the way to the door.

"Just ourselves. Just bond enforcement agents", I said.

"Not even Publisher's Clearinghouse?"

"No!"

"Hunh. You're no fun."

We rang the doorbell and waited. A pleasant looking woman came to the door and asked if she could help us. "Yes," I responded. I told her we were bond enforcement agents and explained her father was in violation of his bond. I also told her it was our job to bring him in.

She shook her head. "No," she responded, "please don't look for him. You will ruin everything. He has a plan and he won't come in until he is ready. Don't worry, he will come in. He's just not ready yet."

I gave her my card. "Are you in contact with your father?" I asked. She looked at me, uncertain as to whether she should admit to that. I went on to say "please let him know I am looking for him and would like to get him rebonded out as soon as possible." Lula and I went back to the car.

"I knew you should have been Publisher's Clearinghouse", Lula said.

I groaned.

"Well, you muffed it up now. You're not going to hear from her any time soon", Lula said.

"Probably not", I replied. We drove to Roberto's son's house. The house was a cheerful white duplex on a quiet side street in Trenton, with a tidy walk-way and pots of red geraniums at the door. There was no one in the neighbourhood we could see and there were no cars parked in the driveway. We went up and knocked on the door anyway. No one came to the door. We looked in the windows but didn't see anybody. The house was empty; we would have to come back later.

We went to see Roberto's last child. Located around the corner from the second house, this house showed some sort of life. A small red tricycle was abandoned by the front door of the end unit of an orange brick row house. We went to the front door and knocked. No response, but we could hear children's laughter coming from the rear of the house. We walked around the house and entered the backyard. Roberto's daughter, Amelia Sanchez, looked surprised to see us coming through the gate from the alley. Watching her children play in the sandbox, she asked if she could help us.

I went through my spiel. "We are bond enforcement agents for the Vincent Plum Bail Bonds office. Your father obtained his bond through us and has failed to show for his court date. I'm sure it is for a simple reason, like he forgot. However, he has to go back to court to get rescheduled for a new date, at which point he can be bonded out again."

Amelia shook her head. She looked upset. "He didn't forget his court date. He just has to do something first and he can't do it from jail. He will go to court, but he will do it when he is ready to and not before." A cry went up from one of the children – the other one had taken his truck and the first child was not happy about it. "I have to go," Amelia said, "I'm sorry I can't help you further."

"Wait!" I said. "Here is my card. Please call me if there is any way I can help." I shoved my card in Amelia's hand and turned to leave the backyard. Lula and I were picking our way around the house back to the car when Lula said she didn't think Amelia would call either. I was inclined to agree.

We decided the next stop would be the button factory, where Roberto had worked for the last thirty years. We entered the office and introduced ourselves. I handed them my card and asked to speak to Roberto. They called in the plant foreman. He said Roberto had just finished a double shift an hour before and was not expected back to work until the following Wednesday as he was taking some personal time. I knew this time off had to do with the trial coming up on Tuesday. I asked him to call if he saw Roberto, and Lula and I left.

We drove by Roberto's house again, stopping at the side of his street right outside his house. The place looked deserted. There were no cars in the driveway and the curtains did not appear to have moved since the last time we drove by his house. We didn't bother knocking on the door. There seemed little point and in truth I didn't want to work too hard to find Robin Hood.

"Well, that was real disappointin'. But you know what? I'm getting hungry and it's lunch time." Lula said. "I need a bucket of extra-crispy from Cluck-in-a-Bucket." I agreed. Chicken would be good. I drove through the drive-through and ordered a Clucky burger combo with a diet coke for myself and a bucket of extra-crispy chicken with an extra side of biscuits, large fries, gravy, coleslaw and a large coke for Lula. We sat in the car to eat it and tried to regroup.

"Well," I said, "I don't think we will catch Roberto today. We don't know where he is staying and he's not at work. What we do know is he will likely be at the trial of Silvio's murderer on Tuesday. It isn't my first choice of places to take him down, but I think we will have to wait until we find him outside the courtroom or something. Maybe we should try one of the new files this afternoon."

"Yeah, Roberto has gone underground. We need to wham him at the trial next week. I could jump him and squash him like a little bug."

"No! No squishing! We have to be professional about this. After all, his son just died and we have to be respectful of that."

"I know that. I'm always professional. I can respect your ass off."

I didn't want to hurt Lula's feelings, but we're never professional. Together we look more like Laurel and Hardy than we do like proper bounty hunters. It is only through luck and pure tenacity, not skill, that we are successful at all.


	15. Chapter 15

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 7

**Chapter Fifteen**

I reviewed the files again and decided I needed the bond money to buy a new car. That meant I would need to bring in one of the high-level bondees, either Caden Kenchiro or Dorothea Pringle. I got out a quarter. "Heads, it's Dorothea; tails, it's Caden", I said. I threw the coin in the air and caught it. "Tails. Guess we are going after Kenchiro."

Caden was currently out of a job, since he killed his former boss. He lived in a double-wide trailer in The Pines, a forested area on the outskirts of town. Lula and I had some experience with The Pines in the past and have found the dirt roads criss-crossing the forest confusing. The last time we were there we got lost and Ranger had to come to rescue us. While I didn't want to have to get rescued again, it gave me some level of comfort to know the Explorer has a tracking system on it and Ranger will get concerned and come find us if the car doesn't move for a long period of time.

I drove down to The Pines. Kenchiro lived on the edge of the forest and after only half an hour of cussing I found his trailer. "I don't like the looks of this", said Lula. "The Pines are creepy and everyone who lives in them is creepy as well."

I parked in between Kenchiro's truck and his trailer. "How tough can it be?" I asked. "He's wanted for vehicular manslaughter. His truck is over there on the left. He's in his trailer over there on the right. As long as we keep ourselves between him and his truck, we should be okay. He won't be able to hurt us." I looked to see if Lula was buying it. I wasn't sure – she was rooting through her bag.

She found her gun and looked at me. "Where's your gun? Don't tell me you left it in your cookie jar again!" She put her gun in her pocket.

"I did", I said. "It's just as well. It doesn't have any bullets." That was the one thing on my mental shopping list I always seem to forget to buy. I think I forget to buy them purposely. You can't shoot anyone if you don't have any bullets and I don't like shooting people. It makes my stomach feel squishy.

Lula and I got out of the car. I hung my cuffs out of my back pocket and shook my pepper spray to activate it. I put it in my front hoody pocket and walked up to the door of the trailer. I knocked on the door and we stood to the side while we waited for Kenchiro to come answer. No one came to the door. I looked in the windows and saw Kenchiro sitting in front of the TV. I opened the door, calling out "bond enforcement." Kenchiro didn't move. Lula and I crept over to him, watching to make sure he was still breathing. He wouldn't be the first dead person I have gone to capture.

I took my cuffs out of my back pocket. I had one of the cuffs snapped on his wrist but before I could snap the other cuff on Kenchiro woke up and stood, yanking his wrist and my cuffs out of my hand and roaring "What the hell do you fucking think you are fucking doing? You're fucking interrupting my fucking sleep; you're fucking trespassing on my fucking property; who the hell do you fucking think you are?"

I got in between Kenchiro and the door and put my hand in my pocket to get my pepper spray. Lula put her hand in her pocket to get her gun. Lula stayed on the other side of Kenchiro, directly across from me. "We are your bond enforcement agents. You missed your court date and we came here to take you back to court to reschedule your date." I tried to keep my voice level and commanding, but facing six feet of angry male left me intimidated.

"I am not fucking going to fucking jail", he roared. And he charged at me like a bull charging a red cape. I stepped to the side before he knocked me over and Kenchiro charged out of the trailer and ran to his truck. As he drove away, Lula shot at his truck a couple of times. Unfortunately she shot wide, winging me on the arm with one bullet and hitting Ranger's vehicle in the side mirror with the other.

She looked at her gun, then looked at me. "Grandma Bella's curse must still be working", she said. "You have the worst luck when it comes to cars."

"You hit me, too."

"Oh my God! That curse is really strong, isn't it?" Lula shivered. She looked at the blood seeping through my sweatshirt. "Do you want me to drive?"

I handed Lula the keys. I pulled off my sweatshirt and went to the back of the Explorer, taking out the first aid kit. We looked at the wound and decided I needed to go to the hospital to get a couple of stitches. Lula field bandaged the wound. We got in the car and Lula drove us back to Trenton. While Lula was driving I called Ranger.

"Babe."

"You know how you were really nice and you lent me the Explorer?" There was silence on the end of the line. "Well, it sort of got shot. It's okay, really, but it doesn't have a side mirror anymore. It's totally drivable. In fact we are driving it right now. But I wanted to warn you."

"Do I want to know what happened?"

"Probably not. But in case you should hear it from anyone else, I should warn you I also sort of got shot. I'm okay, just winged, but I think I might need a couple of stitches."

"I changed my mind. I want to know what happened."

"Well, Lula and I were apprehending Caden Kenchiro here in The Pines and he sort of got away from us. So Lula shot at him a couple of times, only she shot wide. She winged me with the first shot and hit your car with the second."

"She needs to take shooting lessons. You sure you're okay?"

"Yes."

"Do you need my help with anything?"

"No, thanks."

"If you change your mind, you know where to find me." And Ranger hung up.

Lula drove me to the hospital to get stitches. The day was getting quite late and I was tired. After getting cleaned and stitched up, I drove Lula back to the office, picking up another set of cuffs before heading over to Morelli's house.

When I got to Joe's I got a call from my mom. "What's this I hear about you getting shot? Rosie Black said you refused to stay overnight at the hospital and you were dripping blood all over the floor. Are you okay? Why aren't you staying overnight at the hospital?" I explained I was just winged my arm and there was nothing really wrong, it just needed a couple of stitches. I also explained there was no need for me to stay in the hospital, it really was nothing. My mom told me my clothes were washed and ready for pick up, so I thanked her and told her I would come over to pick up the clothes right away.

"Why don't you come for dinner?" she asked. "I made stuffed cabbage rolls. And I have pineapple upside-down cake. You should bring Joe." I thanked my mom for the offer, but turned it down, saying I was coming just for an in-out visit, I was only picking up my clothes and would then leave again. There was a silence on the other end of the line. "I don't think I have ever heard you turn down pineapple upside-down cake before. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, just tired. This strep throat is really taking it out of me", I said. "I'll see you in a few minutes." I went in the house and changed out of my bloody shirt and hoody and changed my bloody jeans. There was no point in upsetting my mother unduly. I drove over to my parents' house. Both my mom and grandmother were waiting at the door. While I parked the car they came out to see me, laundry basket in hand. I took off my hoody to show them the size of the relatively small bandage. I reassured them again, taking the basket of clean laundry from my mom and putting it in the back of the car. I thanked them for doing my laundry. When I went to get back in the car, my mom yelled "wait." She ran into the house, emerging a few minutes later with a foil-wrapped package. "Pineapple upside-down cake", she said. She gave me a kiss and told me to be careful. I got in the car and returned to Joe's.


	16. Chapter 16

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 14

**Chapter Sixteen**

Morelli brought a large pizza with black olives, green peppers, onions, pepperoni and sausage home for dinner. He broke off a piece of crust and put it in Rex's cage. We took the rest into the living room with a roll of paper towels and three plates. We broke up two pieces of pizza and put it out on a plate to cool for Bob and dug into the remainder.

I asked Joe about my apartment and whether anyone had seen anything, or even heard anything. He said the uniforms had talked to most of my neighbours. No one had seen anything, although two people thought they may have heard glass breaking. They weren't sure, but the times corresponded with each other, with the window being broken sometime between midnight and twelve thirty in the morning. "I'm really glad now you weren't there, Cupcake. I've been taking Rolaids all afternoon thinking about what could have happened if you had been there. I'm glad you are staying here tonight. Have you been back to the apartment at all? Could you ascertain whether anything was taken?"

"I went back this morning. I cleaned up the food – I wanted to get that up before it started to go bad and make the apartment smell. And I sorted through my clothes, throwing out all the clothes that were unsalvageable and taking the rest over to my mom's. She washed and ironed them for me today. But I didn't have much of a chance to look to see if anything was missing. Nothing stuck out at me, though." I stretched across Morelli to put the plate of cooled pizza on the floor for Bob and winced slightly at the pull of the stitches.

"What's wrong? Why are you making that face?" Joe asked.

"Well, it's nothing really." I tried to evade the question.

Joe's eyes turned hard and assessing. "I think I would like to hear a little bit of nothing…"

"Damn. Okay. Lula and I were out at The Pines bringing in Caden Kenchiro. Kenchiro sort of got away from us and Lula sort of shot at him. Although out of the two shots that she took, one hit Ranger's car and the other winged my arm. It's not a big deal. It just needed a couple of stitches."

"You were shot. And you thought it was nothing." Morelli sounded dazed. He got up off the couch and got the bottle of Rolaids. He shook out two, stared at his hand for a moment and then shook out two more. He threw them in his mouth and chewed for a moment. He looked at me, shook his head and took out two more. He put the bottle back on the dining room table and came back to the couch. "Did I see pineapple upside-down cake in the fridge?" he asked.

I woke up the next day with a burning pain in my arm, a body wrapped around me, a throat that was almost better and a dog panting in my face. "Joe", I said, "the dog needs out."

"Remember when Bob used to be your dog?" Joe replied. It's true. I was the one who originally took Bob as a favour to another cop, but Bob decided he liked Morelli's house – and backyard – better. It worked out well for both Bob and me. While I love Bob very much, I think I am a better hamster owner.

Joe groaned and got out of bed. "Come on, Bob." He threw on a pair of jeans and left the room, calling out that he would put the coffee on when he was downstairs. From experience I knew I had exactly twenty-seven more minutes to sleep until Joe was finished both with taking care of Bob and having a shower. I cuddled further down in the bed, taking advantage of every one of those minutes.

Saturday is technically a half day in the office. But while it officially is a half day, my hours are more flexible. It sounds great, but in actuality this means I end up working all the time, constantly on the lookout for skips wherever I go. Plans for my day included trying to earn some car money and going back to my apartment and trying to clean up some of the mess.

After breakfast, Joe and I went our separate ways to work, Joe to coordinate the surveillance efforts with his team for the money drop for the next day and me to catch more skips. I was on my own today, as Lula was out car shopping. I decided to go after Benjamin Williams, the purse snatcher. It was a crapshoot as to whether this was a good idea to do without Lula backing me up. Judging from his file he didn't seem particularly smart or lucky; however, from experience I have found purse snatchers can usually run pretty fast. I didn't feel like I had much run in my feet. But I needed the money.

I phoned the convenience store where Williams worked. Williams was not scheduled to work again until Monday night. I would have to take Williams down at his house in front of his parents. I hate taking felons down in front of their parents. It never seems right to me. Parents always get so upset.

Benjamin lived with his mother, two sisters and a brother. I drove to their house and parked outside, a couple of houses down from the Williams's residence. Channelling my inner Ranger, I sat and took stock of the neighbourhood. There were boys playing ball in the street and an old man sitting out on the porch next door having a smoke. His wife probably doesn't let him smoke in the house. The Williams' residence was quiet though.

I phoned the Williams and asked to speak to Benjamin. When they put the phone down to go get him, I hung up. Williams was in the house.

I hung my cuffs out of the back pocket of my jeans and shook my pepper spray to activate it before putting it in the front pocket of my jacket. I walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. A young woman answered the door. "Yes?" she asked. I asked her if she was the sister to Benjamin Williams. "Yes", she answered. She paused. "Would you like to see him?"

"Yes, please", I replied. When Williams came down the stairs I explained I was his bond enforcement agent and he had missed his court date. I handed him my card. I told him I would escort him to the police station to reschedule his date.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that date. I have been working mega hours at the store – almost twenty this last week! The date conflicted with my work schedule."

"Well, it's Saturday today and I checked with the store – you aren't working today. I need to take you in. It won't be for long – we can rebond you out quickly."

"Okay, I don't have to do anything today anyway", he replied. "But I have to be home in time for the football game this evening. It's Uncle Mike's birthday and we're having a football party to celebrate."

See, here's the thing about first-time offenders. They believe me when they hear it isn't a big deal to reschedule their court date. And they believe me when they hear they can easily get rebonded out. That makes my job a lot easier. Because once they know the bond will be set at a higher level and they will have to come up with more collateral to cover it, it becomes a whole lot more difficult to bring the skip back into the system. Since he was a first offender, I got lucky today.

By this time the whole Williams family was at the front door and the old man on the stoop was craning his neck to try to see what was going on. The boys in the street had stopped playing ball and were also watching to see what was happening. I apologized to the Williams family while putting cuffs on Benjamin, explaining it was just procedure, that I had to deliver him to the police station like that. The Williams family started to complain. "It's not fair", one of his sisters said. "It wasn't like he actually stole the purse. He only tried to steal it."

"Yeah," Williams said, "it's not fair." And he pushed past me, brushing against my sore arm and started running down the street.

Now here's the thing. I'm not particularly fast, I don't have a lot of self-defence training and I am a terrible shot. But make me angry and I can do a lot. And over the last few days I had gone through a variety of emotions. Right now it was anger. I was angry at the person threatening me and my hamster; I was angry at Mario for causing Morelli grief; I was angry at Grandma Bella for giving me the eye again; and, I was angry at Williams for hitting my sore arm. I chased after Williams. He was hampered by the cuffs at his back, losing a bit of his balance as he ran. I had no such handicap. I tackled him on the old man's lawn. We wrestled for a few seconds until I "accidently" kneed him in the crotch. Williams turned completely white and curled up into a ball. The boys in the street all winced in sympathy; the old man said "good one, chicky!" I stood and yanked Williams into a standing position. I walked him to the Explorer, him hunched over the whole time, got out the shackles from the trunk and chained him to the floor bolts installed in the back seat. It was probably overkill to restrain him to the floor, but I was still angry and I didn't want him to free himself between his house and the precinct. If that happened, I might be tempted to run him over.

I drove to the station, calling Connie to tell her she would need to come in to rebond Benjamin out. Bonding out someone isn't something I was authorized to do; only Vinnie and Connie could bond someone out. I transferred Williams into the station, grabbing my body receipt on the way back out the door. I met Connie in the parking lot and she handed me a cheque. Pizza money.

I looked over the files again. There weren't any other easy ones I could do without backup. Sure, I could possibly get Dorothea Pringle, the identity theft one, by myself. But I didn't want to take the chance of messing it up. And somehow I felt having someone along to act as support might be a good idea.

I decided instead to go look at my apartment. I motored up Hamilton, driving past the bonds office as I made my way up to my apartment. I parked in the parking lot and looked up. The window had been replaced. When I got in my apartment there was a note under the door again – "This is your last warning." I put it in my messenger bag to show Morelli later.

I washed the floors in the entry, kitchen and bathroom by hand – mopping would not do a good enough job in getting the stickiness off the floor. I washed all the condiments off the kitchen cupboards and the toiletries off the bathroom fixtures. I started piling pieces of broken furniture at the edge of the living room and assessed the damage to the couch. I deemed it beyond repair. I looked at the carpet and saw the lipstick ground in and made a mental note to ask Dillon to steam clean the carpet. I then made another mental note to buy a six pack of beer for Dillon.

Locking up, I took a load of broken furniture down to the dumpster. While I was dropping it in the dumpster, Mr. Melinski drove into the parking lot. Seeing me, Mr. Melinski called out "disappointing, chicky. Not one of your best!" I smiled. Sometimes I felt bad for disrupting the lives of the seniors in the building; at other times I realize I provide a high level of entertainment for them. I don't know which is worse.

I was done for the day. I had grass stains on my knees from taking down Benjamin Williams, my arm ached and I was tired. I headed back to Morelli's house to show him the newest threat.

I was confused. The threat seemed so harmless it was hard to take it seriously. It didn't match the level of destruction in my apartment. I wondered if there were two people involved. I showed Joe the threat, asking what he thought about the two-person theory. "It's as good a theory as I've got right now", he replied. "You are right in the severity of the threats doesn't match the level of rage shown in your apartment. And we don't have a lot to go on. No clear fingerprints, no eyewitness reports, nothing except the time of entry."

"We have finished planning the surveillance for tomorrow", he continued. "Since Mario is familiar with many of the police officers, Rangeman will do the on-site surveillance. They will have a person acting as a cleaner washing the platform, one person playing the role of the ticket taker and one homeless person sitting on a bench close by the designated benches. Tank will also monitor the security cameras from the control room. On our side, the police force will have two people sitting in a nearby apartment where we can see the platform with binoculars and one person sitting in the parking lot in a car, watching the entrance and exit doors."

"Where do I go?"

"You stay at home."

"I'm not staying at home", I said.

"Look, this week you have been sick, you've been shot, you've had a car explode, you've been threatened and the grass stains on your knees tell me you were rolling on the ground with a skip. Don't push it." He turned around and walked out of the room. I stuck my tongue out at him. "I saw that", he called back.

The drop was scheduled for ten o'clock in the morning since the threats said the envelopes had to be in place by eleven. Morelli left at seven to get everything organized before meeting with the team at eight o'clock. I got up at 7:05 and was out the door by 7:20. At eight o'clock I walked up to the team with to-go coffees in hand for everyone. I nodded hello. Morelli's face turned red, he looked down at his shoe and counted to ten.

"It's okay. I figured Stephanie would come no matter what you said", Ranger said to Morelli. "I brought an extra earpiece for her. It will not hurt having an extra set of eyes in a car in the parking lot." Ranger gave me an earbud to put in my ear. "This earbud is like the others you've used in the past with me. It sends and receives; you won't be able to hear the rest of us, but you will be able to hear Tank in the control room and he will be able to hear you. So be careful when you're in the bathroom."

"These earbuds are great", one of the police officers said to me. "The police don't have anything nearly this advanced." That's probably true. The police were still using wires.

I turned the earbud on and put it into my ear. I walked back to the car and settled in for a long surveillance. I saw Rafael go to work, dressed as a cleaner. I saw a homeless man enter the station. I assumed that was another of Ranger's men but I wasn't sure who it was. I couldn't see the ticket taker to know who was playing that role.

At a quarter to ten I saw a very nervous Joey enter the train station with a large envelope. Then I saw Joyce. Then I saw Vinnie. The three left together, walking quickly toward their cars, looking frantically all around them trying to see if they could spot Mario. Then I sat and waited. And waited. And waited. By noon I was getting squirmy and asked Tank if anyone else had seen anything. "Patience", he said.

By two in the afternoon I was desperate to go to the bathroom. I told Tank that I had to go and asked him what I should do. "You didn't bring a bottle?" he asked incredulously.

"No. How is a woman supposed to use a bottle?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. I didn't think of that", he responded. "Okay, there's a coffee shop just down the road. Go there and come back right away. Remember to take your earbud out before you go into the bathroom so I'm not distracted by hand dryer sounds. I'll let everyone know you're leaving for a few minutes."

I drove down the road and parked the car. I took out my earbud and placed it in the cup holder and went into the shop and used the bathroom. On the way out I bought a small coffee and three jelly filled and three Boston Cream doughnuts. I put the earbud back in place and drove back to the train station. I drove around until I found a suitable parking space and parked the car. "Did I miss anything?" I asked Tank.

"No", replied Tank. "But Ranger wants to know if you bought coffee with those doughnuts. And Morelli is asking if you can save him a Boston Cream."

I groaned. Sometimes the men in my life know me too well.

We waited until eight o'clock that evening, at which point the train station closed for business. It was locked up tight and would not open again until five the next morning.

I met with the team in the parking lot and gave the earbud back to Ranger. Everyone, with the exception of Morelli and myself, made plans to meet at four o'clock the next morning. Morelli and I would go to court to see if Mario was there instead. We could not do stakeout again. Fine by me – stakeout is boring.

I told Morelli I needed to swing by my apartment to pick up some jewellery suitable to wear with my black suit, the one I wear to court and funerals. We arranged for him to follow me back to my place. We parked in the parking lot and looked up. Not good – the windows of my apartment had been shot out. We hurried upstairs and stopped in front of the door. Morelli withdrew his gun and motioned me to the side before unlocking the door and opening it. He searched the apartment, checking under the bed and in all the closets. He called out "clear" and holstered his gun again. When I entered the apartment I noticed there was another note under the door. It said "I saw you at the train station today. You are ruining everything. Stay away from the station and stay away from me. If I see you again, it won't be your apartment that is shot. It will be you."

"Well," said Morelli, "I guess this confirms Mario and his crew are responsible for the threat to your safety." Morelli called the broken windows into the police station. "I have to do my cop thing here. Do you think you can walk and feed Bob? Also, you may want to let Ranger know our cover was blown today."

I phoned Ranger on the way back to Morelli's house and told him about the most recent threat. "Stay aware", he said. "Assuming the person threatening you is Mario, he will suspect you will be in court tomorrow. You will be at risk. And if the blackmailers come to the station tomorrow and again spot our stakeout, you will also be at risk. Stay safe, Babe."


	17. Chapter 17

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 11

**Chapter Seventeen**

The day dawned cool and bright. I dressed in a black suit, a pale pink stretchy scoop-neck girl t-shirt and heels. I put on the jewellery I had picked up from my apartment the day before. I was ready to go.

The courthouse shares a building with the Trenton police department. There is a common entrance. Inside the lobby you can go one way to the courtrooms and the other way to the police station.

Morelli and I were at the courthouse by nine in the morning. Joe and I split up. I sat inside the courtroom. Morelli staked out the outside of the building, commandeering a radio so he could stay in contact with the security guard posted outside the courtroom.

Mario's trial was scheduled for eleven o'clock. Promptly at eleven the doors to the courtroom opened and Mrs. Morelli and Grandma Bella entered. Mrs. Morelli looked determined to prove her son's innocence; Grandma Bella looked like she was ready to strike down anyone who messed with her grandson. She saw me and moved to come talk to me. Mrs. Morelli restrained her mother, glaring at her and whispering in her ear. Grandma Bella sat down, touched her eye and pointed at me. I shivered.

The judge waited fifteen minutes before saying she would not wait any longer for Mario. Mario was now considered FTA.

Grandma Bella popped up and scurried over to me. "You!" she screeched. "You make Mario not come. Mario good boy. You bad girl. I give you eye." She touched her eye and nodded, before turning around and departing the courtroom, leaving me shaken. I didn't think I could handle any more bad fortune.

I joined Morelli outside the courthouse. Waiting until we were alone, I told him what had transpired in the courtroom. "The "eye" isn't real", he said. "Don't worry about it. I've had a lot of years seeing the work of the eye and have come to the conclusion it's nothing more than coincidence at work." We both turned at the sound of a car coming quickly down the street. The car slowed as it approached the courthouse and a gun appeared out the passenger window. Morelli grabbed me and threw me onto the ground, lying on top of me. The gun sprayed bullets in our direction before taking off. In an instant, Morelli was on his feet, gun drawn. "You okay?"

"Yeah. You?" I got up.

"Yeah. Did you see the shooter?" he asked.

"No. It happened too fast. I didn't really see anything. I can't even tell you the make of the car, other than telling you the car was dark red."

"Yeah, I couldn't get a plate either, but I know it was a Le Sabre. But that's not enough information to do a search. We're just lucky there was no one else out the front of the building." He paused and put his arm around me. "How about we go inside to fill out an incident report. You can sit at my desk while you wait for me. It might be a good idea for you to phone this in to Ranger, too."

I phoned Ranger. "Babe", he said. I started shaking when I heard his voice.

"You know how you told me to stay safe?" I asked. There was a silence on the end of the line. "Well, I'm safe."

"What happened?"

"Joe and I came to the courthouse this morning. I sat inside while Morelli stayed outside, just like we planned. Mario didn't show up but Grandma Bella did and she gave me the eye again. After Mario was deemed FTA, I went outside to join up with Morelli. Luckily there wasn't anyone around, as there was a drive-by shooting. Joe threw himself on top of me when the shooting started."

"Were you hurt?"

"No. Neither Morelli or I were hit."

"Where are you now? Do you need me to come get you?"

"No. I'm sitting at Joe's desk. Morelli is doing his cop thing and I'm trying to stop shaking."

"It's natural. Adrenaline burn-off."

"I know."

"Did you get a look at the shooter?"

"No. All I saw was it was a dark red car. Morelli said it was a Le Sabre."

"You know it's not the work of the eye, right? It's the work of the shooter. Grandma Bella can't curse you."

"I don't know. From where I'm sitting it seems pretty real."

"Stay at Morelli's desk until he comes to get you. You need to stay safe." He hung up.

In my mind, no matter what Morelli and Ranger said, this proved the eye was real.

Morelli let Ranger in the house that night as Bob came running to the door. Ranger came over and gave me a quick, hard hug and a kissed the top of my head. "You're safe", he murmured. He let me go and picked up Bob's ball and threw it down the hall. He turned to Morelli, all business again.

"The bad news is no one was interested in the envelopes. We stayed until the train station closed again and no one even went near the envelopes. But based on the note at Stephanie's apartment yesterday and the shooting at the courthouse today, I think the blackmailer has been spooked and will not show up. I would recommend we drop surveillance on the train station.

"The good news," he continued, "is I have spoken to Vinnie, Joyce and Joey and no one has received any additional threats. The other good news is, if we drop surveillance, I have myself and three additional people on the street looking for Mario. Now that he is FTA, we have more leeway into what we can do." Once a person is FTA, unlike a police officer, a bond enforcement agent has the right to enter any dwelling in which they suspect the fugitive is hiding. This gives us an advantage police officers don't have.

"Of course," Ranger said, "the other bad news is Joyce may try to look for Mario as well." I grimaced. Joyce is a terrible bond enforcement agent, even worse than Lula and I. And that was saying something. "Don't worry, Babe, I'll get Vinnie to head her off", he said to me.

"There have been two main focuses", Ranger continued to Morelli. "The first has been the blackmail threats themselves. However, there has been very little contact and for whatever reason the blackmailer seems to have shifted his focus to Stephanie. That's why I see the blackmailing as a secondary issue and the threat to Stephanie as being the primary issue. Between the written threats, the vandalism and the three separate gun threats, I'm concerned, as I know you are, about the focus on Stephanie. If we aren't careful, at some point this guy will get lucky. I think we should remove the temptation by putting Stephanie in a safe house for the time being, until we find out and arrest the person responsible for the threats."

"I think it is a good idea to put her in one as well", Morelli answered. "The problem will be with _keeping_ her in a safe house."

"She can sleep on my couch again. My building is totally secure and I can give orders to make sure she stays within the building. Alternatively I can put her in one of my other safe houses, but I will then need to put staff on her to make sure she stays put. This will mean two less staff looking for Mario."

"Hey, I'm here, remember? Don't I have a say in this?" I asked.

"NO!" Morelli and Ranger said in unison. See, that's the thing about the two men in my life. They each have a competitive and jealous streak when it comes to me they politely handle in differing ways. But they can put that competition aside and work well together when they have a common goal. That common goal is often overseeing my safety.

I put my hands on my hips and stared at the two men. They each put their hands on their hips and stared back. "Count to ten, Cupcake. It works for me," Morelli offered.

"Babe," Ranger said logically, "we don't know why you are being targeted. We only know you are. We don't even know for sure if it is Mario targeting you and we don't want to close any doors by making that assumption. For Joe's and my mental health, give us a break and let us put you in a safe house. Once we don't have to worry about you, we can do our jobs better to find the person trying to hurt you."

"But I'll go nuts in a safe house!"

"Better nuts than dead, Babe", Ranger replied.

"But wouldn't it be better to use me as bait, to try to draw out the person threatening me? If I was always with one of you or someone else from Rangeman, I'm sure I would be safe."

"Like you were today, Cupcake?" Morelli asked.

"Well, I _was_ okay. You saw the danger, threw yourself on top of me and protected me from it. Why can't we do that?"

Morelli and Ranger looked at each other. "It will be hellish for my staff to keep her in a safe house," Ranger said.

"I can live with this as long as everyone agrees Stephanie is never left alone, that she is always protected. And I mean everyone, including you, Cupcake. That means no sneaking out the back door or down the fire escape. And no sneaking out the bathroom window," Morelli said.

"I promise", I said.

"That means Rangeman staff or Joe are right beside you at all times, not following you like they have in the past. I don't want my staff in separate cars. I want them providing proper protection detail to you. That also means a Rangeman staff member will sleep here at Morelli's house, do you understand?" Ranger added.

"Does someone have to follow me into the bathroom as well?"

"Is that sass? Because I am not in the mood for sass", Ranger said.

"Nope. No sass here," I said. Ranger's lips twitched into a little smile.

"Do you understand and agree to those terms?" Morelli said.

"Does this mean I can go about doing my job? I have to earn some car money. And tomorrow is my best chance of catching Robin Hood." I said in way of explanation.

"Yes. And you can use my staff to a certain degree to help you. Just understand their primary directive will be to protect you, at the expense of losing a skip if they have to", Ranger answered.

I nodded in agreement. This was as good a deal as I would get.


	18. Chapter 18

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 5

**Chapter Eighteen**

By the time I came down to the kitchen the next day, dressed again in my black suit, this time with a silky white blouse and black heels, Hal had arrived for my protection detail. I like Hal. Nicknamed Halosaurus, he is as big as a stegosaurus and as loyal as a dog. I have known him for a few years now and have always gotten along with him well. If I had to have a babysitter, I was glad Ranger selected Hal to guard me.

Once Hal arrived Morelli was ready to leave for work. After walking the dog, he gave me a kiss, reminding me I had promised to let Hal look after me. "No escaping, remember?" he said. "You promised." I reassured him. I didn't like it but after all, I had promised. I hadn't even crossed my fingers behind my back when I did, either.

Hal drove to the courthouse, driving the fleet car Ranger had lent me. "What happened to the mirror?" he asked. I told him Lula had shot it by mistake. Hal smiled. I think Lula is as amusing to the Rangeman staff as I am. Ranger once told me he had a line item in his company budget for me. It was labelled "entertainment."

We arrived at the courthouse several minutes before the start of the trial. A Rangeman vehicle had been holding a spot for us close to the courthouse which they vacated when we came. After parking Hal put his gun in the steel lock box under the driver's seat. He wouldn't be allowed to take it into the courthouse.

We entered the courtroom, choosing a seat to the back and to the side of the room. This suited Hal because that vantage point allowed him to scan everyone for a potential threat to me; it suited me because it let me look for Roberto. I took out the file on Roberto and showed Hal his picture. He gave a little nod, continuing to scan the audience for threats. Hal was in serious protection mode.

The trial started. The high profile nature of the case meant it was a media circus. Roberto and his three children sat in the first row, reporters sat in the remaining rows. Throughout the audience various members of the police force were interspersed. I recognized many of them, including Gavin Mayer, our current police chief. I also recognized Joe Juniak, the former police chief in Trenton who left to become a state senator. The police were there to provide a presence, in force to support their own.

I pointed Roberto out to Hal, whispering we would take him quietly after the trial was over. I did not want to turn the apprehension into a media frenzy. It wouldn't be fair - it would take attention away from the seriousness of the real issues. Besides, my mother would never live down seeing me on the evening news.

We stayed put for the whole trial, waiting until the verdict of guilty was handed down. We stood when the judge left the room. The Mendez family was crying and hugging one another. Amelia saw me across the room and pointed me out to the rest of the family. They started hurrying to escape from the room. "Let's go", I told Hal. I moved quickly on a collision course towards Roberto, Hal one step behind. Unfortunately the media also saw the Mendez family on the run. They followed the family, cutting me off from Roberto. Reporters were jostling me in an effort to get in a prime position to get a statement from the family. One person stuck out their foot as I walked past, making me trip. I went down on my knees, taking down three people and a cameraman as I tried to catch myself from falling. As Hal reached under my arms and lifted me up, asking me if I was okay, I saw my chance to capture Roberto disappear from the courthouse.

I received a call from Morelli before we reached the car. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"The whole police force is trying to figure out who tripped you. They want to give the person a citation."

"I don't blame them. I don't want to go after Mendez either. Sometimes this job sucks", I said.

"You could always get another job", Morelli replied.

"I've tried that. It didn't work, remember?"

"Yeah, but at least you wouldn't be targeted right now."

"Maybe. How many Rolaids have you taken today?"

"I lost count at ten. Are you sure you don't want to go into a safe house?"

"No. I can't do my job if I do that. Which means I can't pay my rent."

"You could always move in with me."

"We tried that before, too; that didn't work either, remember?"

"Maybe if we got married."

I paused. "I'm not touching that one. I know you aren't serious."

"But if I was serious?"

"I'm still not touching that one." I knew the main reason Morelli was saying that was in an effort to keep me safe. "Do you want us to get dinner on the way home? Subs or pizza?"

"Surprise me."


	19. Chapter 19

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 20

**Chapter Nineteen**

The next day Hal and I decided to go get Kenchiro. Wearing my usual outfit of jeans, t-shirt, hoody and Converse sneakers, I checked my bag to ensure I had a can of pepper spray and a pair of cuffs. I reviewed Kenchiro's file with Hal. "We have to be careful with him", I said. "He's a very angry man who now knows what I look like. He is partial to his truck and will try to get away in it."

We drove out to The Pines, speaking very little on the drive. Hal appeared to have been taking lessons from Ranger on getting in touch with his Zen. He looked relaxed, hands loose on the steering wheel, eyes checking the mirrors constantly for potential danger. I wasn't quite so relaxed. The last time I met up with Kenchiro I got shot.

We found Kenchiro's trailer, driving past once we ascertained Kenchiro was there. Hal parked about two hundred yards away from the trailer, behind a clump of trees and opened up the back of the car, getting out flak vests, cuffs, stun gun and more ammunition. We were going in loaded for bear.

Hal handed me a flak vest and put one on himself. "You need to wear this. I don't want you to get shot – again." He also handed me an extra gun. "Ranger said your gun is in a cookie jar? Is that right?" I nodded yes. "Okay, I'll ask why later. Here's an extra gun for you now." He made sure it was loaded and handed it to me.

"That's okay. I have pepper spray", I said. "I don't need a gun."

Hal ignored me. "Do you know how to use it?" I nodded yes. "Good, then Ranger says you have to carry it."

Oh, goody. A gun.

We got back in the car and drove back to Kenchiro's trailer. Like I had, Hal parked in between Kenchiro's truck and his home. We went up to the front stoop and rapped on the door. There was no answer. Hal opened the door, yelling "bond enforcement." No response. Hal took one step into the trailer when we heard the sound of a shotgun ratcheting, getting ready to shoot. Hal turned around and dove over me, knocking me off the steps of the stoop and onto the hard ground beneath as the first shots hit the door. I struggled to breathe. Hal had knocked the wind out of me when we landed. Hal stayed on top of me as Kenchiro ran past us, got in his truck and drove away.

Hal rolled off me, looking worried. "Are you okay?" he asked. I continued to struggle to get air in me. By the time I was able to answer, Hal had ripped off my flak vest and was inspecting me for bullet holes.

"I'm okay. Just winded", I said. "How about you?"

"I'm okay. Are you sure you weren't shot?"

"No", I said. "I wasn't shot."

"Thank God. Ranger would kill me. What do you want to do now? Stakeout or regroup?"

"Let's regroup and come back tomorrow", I said. We took off our vests and put away our guns and other paraphernalia.

"Okay. On the way back you could tell me why you keep your gun in a cookie jar."

We decided we would go after Dorothea Pringle in the afternoon. But on the way back to Trenton I got a call from my mom. "Why don't you come for lunch?" she asked.

"I can, but I'll be bringing my new partner with me. Is that okay?" I asked.

"Sure, we have plenty. We have an Entemann's coffee cake and fresh bread from Giovichinni's and I've just made a pot of minestrone. What happened to Lula?"

"Nothing. Hal is on loan to me from Ranger."

I gave Hal directions to my parents' house. When we got there, my mother and grandmother were waiting at the door. "Oh, my, he's a big one, isn't he?" my grandmother said. Hal just smiled. I guess he's used to hearing that.

I introduced Hal and we went in and sat down, Hal fitting himself into the small space around the table as best as he could. My mom placed out bakery bread and butter and bowls of minestrone. We started to eat.

"Dorothea Pringle lives in the Burg. I don't know anything about her – do you?" I asked.

"Dorothea – why do I know that name?" my mom commented.

"Maybe because she's the person that swindled Mary Jean Baker out of all that money", said Grandma. "It was awful. I saw her at the Cut and Curl last week and she said it took months before the police could catch Dorothea and even now Mary Jean is trying to rebuild her credit rating. I hope they put her in the slammer and throw away the key."

"No, I don't think that's where I heard her name," my mother said.

"She's FTA and we will be looking for Dorothea later on this afternoon. Do you have any ideas where we should look?" I asked.

"Her home. At the mall. Anywhere where she can spend money." Grandma suggested.

"Now I remember where I heard of her!" my mom said. "She was that young bimbo seeing Stan Kunchik. Stan died a couple of days ago. He is being laid out at Stiva's tonight."

"That's right!" said Grandma. "I'll be going. I can scope it out for you and see if Dorothea is there!"

"That's alright," I replied. "Hal and I can go. Do you need a ride?" I asked.

"That would be wonderful, thanks. I'll be ready at seven." Grandma turned to Hal. "You have to get there early to get the good seats, you know."

I had three sets of formal clothes left after the vandals had attacked my apartment. Not that I had much beforehand – I'm more of a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl – but I only had three sets of good clothes left: my black suit I had worn to court and that needed cleaning after falling on the ground yesterday; a red sparkly sheath cut way too short, way too tight and way too revealing; and a pair of black wool dress pants. I settled on the dress pants, adding a cream coloured tank top, a black dressy cardigan and a pair of black heels. An extra swipe of mascara, my hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and my favourite cherry lip gloss completed the look. On Hal's side, he wore his usual black Rangeman uniform of tight black long-sleeve t-shirt, black fatigue pants and a black Gore-Tex jacket to hide his gun. He wasn't exactly wearing funeral wear, but at least he was dressed all in black.

We picked up Grandma promptly at seven o'clock. She was waiting at the door, dressed in a bright purple shirtwaist-style of dress, tottering on black pumps and carrying a large purse. I know from experience her bag was big enough to hold a .45 long barrel handgun. "You look nice, Grandma", I said.

"Thanks. I got my Social Security cheque yesterday, so I bought this new dress today. I thought it would be good for attending funerals and viewings. I read somewhere the royal family often wears purple to funerals. I figured if that is what the royal family does, it is good enough for me. It makes me stand out and it gives a nice change to wearing black, don't you think?" I agreed. I thought I would have liked to wear purple, too, although maybe not the fluorescent purple Grandma was wearing. It was pretty bright.

We arrived at the funeral home, again obtaining a parking spot right in front of the building, thanks to Rangeman forethought and organization. Grandma was thrilled. "Did you see that?" she asked. "Those people left that spot just as we were arriving. Wasn't that lucky?" Hal smiled. I didn't have the heart to tell her Hal had planned it that way so I wouldn't be overly exposed. She would have been asking Hal to take her to all her viewings. "And now we are right in front of the doors I can make a big entrance getting out of this big black vehicle, just like a movie star", she added.

We got out of the vehicle, Hal checking to make sure he had his gun and cuffs, me checking to make sure I had my purse. I already knew I had put cuffs in my pocket and pepper spray in my purse, although I could not use the pepper spray in the funeral home with so many people with potential respiratory problems around me. Of course, for that matter, Hal could not use his gun due to the vast number of people as well, but like me he wanted access to his favourite takedown tools.

We entered the fray at the door, Hal moving closer to my back as we pushed through the crowd. There were three slumber rooms where they lay out the deceased for viewings. All three were taken tonight. Slumber room number one held Harold Sanchek, an eighty-year old member of the Knights of Columbus. Apparently he was a popular member, because his slumber room was packed with mourners. Slumber room two held Lottie Lemmerson. Lottie died of cancer at the age of forty-nine. Her funeral was well attended by family members, business partners and friends. Slumber room three was the smallest room, reserved for small funerals and unpopular people. If you were having your funeral at Stiva's, you would not want your remains to be displayed in slumber room number three. However, today this room held the unfortunate Stan Kunchik. Stan died at the age of seventy-eight, leaving behind his wife, two children, one grandchild, two former mistresses and one current mistress.

Hal and I headed directly to slumber room three. Grandma, being more of a professional mourner, visited all the rooms. She liked to scope out the flowers, caskets and make-up jobs done on the cadavers and to try to see whether there was an open casket. Grandma believed that if people made the effort to attend a viewing they should be allowed to see the deceased. It is her pet peeve to see a closed casket. It did not matter how gruesome the death was – even if the person had been blown into a million pieces – Grandma believed she deserved to see an open casket. In truth, her interest in seeing the deceased increased in proportion to the dreadfulness of the death. In short, Grandma has a ghoulish fascination with traumatic tragedies.

We entered the room, me leading the way to the head of the casket to pay my respects, Hal following me two steps behind. I tried not to look at the man in the open casket. I didn't share my grandmother's fascination with dead people. I looked around. I could not see Dorothea anywhere. Hal and I sat in the row of chairs at the back of the room to wait.

After approximately fifteen minutes of waiting Dorothea entered the room. Hal and I stood up. Our plan was to let her pay her respects, then quietly cuff her and move her out to the car. However, when Dorothea got to the front of the room the widow started to attack her. "I hate you", she cried. "You have no right being here. I knew you were boinking my husband for the last year and I couldn't get him to give you up. You have all the nerve coming here" and she started to bitch-slap Dorothea on the face and chest. "I hate you, I hate you", she shouted over and over.

Dorothea incited the widow further. "He loved me more", she yelled. "He was getting ready to leave you. He wanted to be with me." She bitch-slapped the widow back. Children and friends got between them, trying to break up the fight. Hands and arms were flying everywhere. Hal and I moved to the front of the room, me focused on Dorothea and Hal focused on me. I pulled the cuffs out of my pocket and snagged a wrist, snapping the cuffs into place. Dorothea saw the cuffs and ran out of the room, leaving me holding a now-subdued widow in cuffs. I couldn't believe it. I had cuffed the wrong person.

"Why didn't you capture her? She ran right by you", I asked.

"My job is to protect you, remember? I can't protect you if I'm chasing a skip. Ranger will have my job if I let you get into harm's way", Hal answered.

Oh damn, I forgot.

Dorothea was gone. I retrieved my cuffs and apologized to the widow Kunchik. Hal and I found Grandma, telling her it was time to leave. "I heard there was a commotion in slumber room three. Did you see anything?" I denied seeing anything. "Darn. I wish I had seen it. It will be all the talk at the hair salon tomorrow. Did you at least see Dorothea?"

"Yes, but she got away", I answered.

"Darn. Can we grab some cookies on the way out?" Grandma asked.

The next day, Hal and I decided to go after Dorothea again. I had been embarrassed the night before and wanted a chance to prove myself to Hal. I didn't think I would get a chance to prove myself as an acceptable bounty hunter with Kenchiro. And I didn't feel like getting shot at again by him.

We drove to Dorothea's father's house in Hamilton Township, the address Dorothea had provided on her bond agreement. It was a tidy single detached pale yellow house with white trim, a profusion of flowers in the front gardens and a brick pathway leading from the driveway to the back. A car was parked in the driveway. Hal parked one house down the street. We sat and waited fifteen minutes, watching the house and street for signs of life. The street was quiet. Getting out of the car, Hal insisted I put on a flak vest again. While I felt silly, I didn't complain. He had forgotten to give me a gun. Making sure I had cuffs, a stun gun and pepper spray close at hand, I asked Hal to provide back-up at the garden door while I talked to Dorothea at the front door. "I can't do that, remember? I need to see you at all times."

Hal and I rang the doorbell, Hal two steps behind me on the stoop. Dorothea answered the door, eyes red and swollen from crying. "Yes?"

I could smell the scent of apple pie baking. "I hate to intrude upon you at a time like this," I said, "but we are your bond enforcement agents. You missed your court date and we need to take you in right now to reschedule your date."

"I can't come right now", she responded. "I am in the middle of baking a pie and I have to wait until it comes out of the oven or it will burn. Can you come back in a couple of hours? I'll be ready to go then."

"No, I'm sorry. You have to come now. Just take your pie out of the oven so it won't burn" I said.

She thought for a moment, then agreed to meet us at the front door in a few minutes. I put my foot in the door to ensure she couldn't close it and watched Dorothea walk to the back of the house to the kitchen. I heard the oven door open and shut. I heard a few seconds of silence. And then I heard a patio door slide open. "She's running", I said. I ran to the side of the house, Hal two steps behind me, in time to see the car back out of the driveway at warp speed, just missing me as she pulled out onto the road. We ran to our car and jumped in, but we were too late. We had lost her.

"What do you want to do?" Hal asked.

"She might not recognize the Rangeman car. Let's go get coffees and doughnuts and come back to do surveillance", I suggested.

We headed for the closest doughnut shop, buying a half dozen doughnuts – five for me and one for Hal. And we bought small coffees. It has been my experience with a stakeout you can wait for hours with nothing happening, but when you leave to tinkle, that is when all hell breaks loose. I was hoping to avoid the need to tinkle by restraining myself to a small coffee. I didn't want another embarrassing moment in front of Hal.

We drove back to Dorothea's house. Her car hadn't returned so we settled in to wait. I organized my purse and played twenty questions and I spy with Hal. I phoned my mom to say hi. I phoned my sister, Valerie, to say hi. I phoned my best friend, Mary Lou, to say hi. I phoned the Connie and Lula to say hi. I phoned Morelli to say hi. I phoned Morelli's home phone answering machine to say hi. When I ran out of people to phone I started getting squirmy. And I started to develop a new plan. It wasn't working having Hal as my wingman, since he was focused on protecting me and not on helping me with my skip. I would have to bring Lula in as backup. I phoned Lula and asked her to come to meet us at Dorothea's house. "Great", she said, "I can show you my new car!" I asked her to bring us some ham and cheese subs at the same time.

Half an hour later a car parked behind us. It was a red Firebird, a newer model of her old car. "What's this?" I asked.

"It's my new car. Isn't it a beauty?"

"It's the same car as before. Even the same colour!" I exclaimed.

"No, it's a slightly darker shade of red", Lula said.

"How can you afford a new car?" I asked. As a file clerk Lula doesn't earn much.

"Well, I haven't had as many cars blow up as you, so I can still get comprehensive insurance from my insurance company. Yours refuses and will only cover liability. And besides, I'm leasing this. They told me it works out to be cheaper in the long run if you want to replace your cars every four years. And I just thought, hell yeah, I would like a new car in four years. So I decided to lease the car. You wouldn't be eligible for leasing on account of the fact you must be eligible for comprehensive insurance."

It's too bad. I would like to replace my car every four years as well. Unfortunately, it is rare I get even two years out of my cars before they go to car heaven. I have bad luck with cars.

We sat in the Rangeman car and ate our subs. Lula organized her purse. She phoned her friend Shirleen. She phoned her friend Vanessa. She phoned her friend Latoya. She phoned Connie at the office. She made a couple of crank calls to Vinnie. She started getting squirmy. I told her to go to sleep until Dorothea showed up. She put her head back and immediately fell asleep, snoring so loudly the car windows were vibrating with the sound. I woke her up. "You're snoring."

"I don't snore", she replied.

"You were definitely snoring", I said. "Hal, wasn't Lula snoring?" Hal nodded yes.

"Hunh", muttered Lula and instantly went back to sleep, snoring again.

Two hours later Hal and I couldn't take it anymore. We both had headaches from the sound. We woke Lula up and told her we were calling off the surveillance. The three of us then decided to go after the remaining open file, Maori Man. I pulled the file and read out the particulars to Lula and Hal. Real name Aaron Kimmel; robbed a convenience store for over three thousand dollars and a couple of boxes of chips while armed; put up his car as bond; lives on State Street near Stark. "I understand robbing a store for chips", Lula said. "Sometimes you just get a craving... What's a Maori?"

"I think it is a New Zealand native", Hal answered.

"Cool. I wonder if he will have a New Zealand accent." Lula said.

Lula got in her car and followed us back to the office, leaving her car in the blackened parking lot. We picked her up and drove down Hamilton to Broad, Broad to State. I counted houses, finding Aaron's address to be an old rooming house in a busy neighbourhood. A pizzeria was located across the street that despite the mid-afternoon hour was doing a booming business, a bar was situated beside the rooming house and, judging by the number of children we heard, a school was within walking distance. "Who we going to be?" Lula asked.

"Ourselves", I answered.

"Hunh. You always say that and it never works."

"Today it will", I said. It better, I thought. I didn't want to become the laughingstock of Rangeman.

Lula and I went up to the house, Hal following two steps behind again. We knocked on the door and let ourselves in. The inside of the house was ratty and worn down. Carpeted stairs were threadbare, woodwork was dark with age and years of neglect. The proprietor of the house came out to us, smoking a cigarette, ash falling on the carpet as she spoke. "I heard your knock", she said. "Can I help you with anything?"

"We're looking for Aaron Kimmel." I said. "We are his bond enforcement agents. He missed his court date and we have come to take him to the courthouse to reschedule."

"He's a weird one. I'll show you his room. I think he is there now." She took us up the stairs to the third floor and pointed to his room. We knocked on the door. "Come in", he shouted. We entered the small room. Inside was a chipped painted metal bed frame with a single water-stained wooden dresser beside it. In the corner of the room was a straight-backed chair heaped with dirty clothing. Kimmel was lounging on the bed. He had tattoos all over his face and arms in a tribal pattern and piercings over any conceivable part of his face – eyebrows, ears, nose, lips. He popped up when he saw us and stood on the balls of his feet in a threatening manner. Lula moved behind me and Hal moved to my side.

"Aaron Kimmel?"

"I'm not Aaron Kimmel", he said. "I'm Maori Man."

"Okay. Hi, Maori Man. My name is Stephanie Plum," I began, "and I am here representing Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. You forgot your court date last week and we need to go back to the station to reschedule."

"I don't think so", Aaron said. And he crouched down so his head was at my navel level, stuck his tongue out – showing us his tongue was pierced too – and proceeded to wave it at us, making a god-awful yell at the same time. He then charged us, taking me by surprise and hitting me square in the belly. I fell back against Lula from the force of the head butt and Lula fell on the ground. Aaron was the first to recover. He popped up and took one step towards the door when Hal tackled him. Both went to the ground, rolling around on top of Lula and me in the small space. Hal pulled out his cuffs and restrained him, yanking him to his feet. Hal then helped Lula and me up with one hand, holding onto Kimmel with the other and asked if we were okay.

"Yup," I responded, "just bruised."

"You know," Lula said to Kimmel, "I can understand you robbing a store for chips. But I can't understand that tongue waggin' thing. I used to be a 'ho and I seen a lot of things in my time. But that's just disgustin'. Your momma ought to be ashamed of you for acting like that. And you don't even have an accent. You are a disgrace to the Maoris." Kimmel spit in Lula's face. "That's disgustin', too", she said.

We walked Aaron down the stairs and out to the car. Hal shackled him to the floor bolts and we drove to the bonds office to drop off Lula. As she got out of the car, Aaron turned to her and wagged his tongue again. "Disgustin'", Lula said, shaking her head. We then drove Kimmel to the precinct to get my body receipt. I put it in my bag to give to Connie.


	20. Chapter 20

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 10

**Chapter Twenty**

Three days into my protection detail and we were starting to fall into a pattern. Hal and I worked together trying to catch skips all day. Morelli, Ranger, Hal and I ate dinner together every night, often from a casserole Ranger brought from Ella. During this time we would review the progress Morelli and Ranger had made during the day. This didn't take long, as Morelli and Ranger were making no progress. They had spoken to all the same people I had spoken to, retracing my steps. No new information was given. It was frustrating. One or more of those people had to be protecting Mario and they weren't giving him up. It was particularly upsetting to Morelli since Mario was his brother. The chances were high the person protecting Mario was a family member.

After dinner Joe would walk Bob, leaving me with Ranger and Hal for protection. When Joe came back Ranger would depart for the evening, leaving the three of us to watch whatever game or action flick was on the TV until it was time for bed. Hal elected to forgo sleeping in the guest bedroom, explaining he would hear any potential threats better if he slept on the couch. So we would set up the couch for Hal before heading up to bed ourselves. I knew Ranger also had a car outside Morelli's house at night staffed with two more employees in case Hal or Morelli were sleeping too heavily to hear any intruders.

The high level of protection was driving me crazy. It was too cozy, too claustrophobic, an arrangement which everyone seemed to handle much better than me. And ultimately I didn't even think it made sense. We couldn't catch the person in the act of threatening me if the person couldn't get close enough to me to do so. I talked to Ranger about it. "Better to feel claustrophobic than to be dead," he said logically, "and this level of protection is just giving us more time to work on finding the person responsible, whether it is Mario or someone else. We aren't finding answers fast and we need to know you're safe while we figure this out." Ranger left no room for argument.

We received no blackmail threats at Morelli's house. I hadn't been back to my apartment to see if there were any threats there, but I also hadn't received any phone calls from Dillon. I took that as a good sign.

On Friday, Hal and I decided to go back to get Kenchiro. We drove out to The Pines, parking behind the same clump of trees as before to get suited up. I asked Hal whether he had a knife. He pulled out a pocket knife, asking if it would do. I confirmed it would. We got back into the car and drove back to the trailer. Hal and I got out of the car. I whispered to Hal to wait there and quietly walked over to Kenchiro's truck, Hal following two steps behind me anyway. I crouched down and used the knife to puncture all four tires. The car slowly sank to the ground. I handed the knife back to Hal and whispered "thank you." Hal smiled, put the knife back into his pocket and we walked up to the trailer. Hal pulled his gun, standing ready at the side of the door and nodded that he was ready. Yelling "bond enforcement", I opened the door and stepped a few steps inside the trailer to face an angry six-foot man looking down a shot-gun barrel at me.

"Did you fucking think I didn't fucking know you were going to fucking come back? I've been fucking waiting for you", he said. It was hard to wade through all the "fuckings" to figure out what Kenchiro was saying.

"Hi. I don't know if you remember who I am. I'm Stephanie Plum. I represent Vincent Plum Bail Bonds and you missed your court date. I need you to come with me to reschedule."

"I'm not fucking going to re-fucking schedule. Why can't you fucking get it through your fucking thick head? I don't want to fucking go back to fucking jail."

"Who said anything about going to jail?" I asked. "I just want to take you back to get rescheduled. You can get bonded out again. Since it's morning we could bond you out by the end of the day."

"Thanks, but I don't fucking have any fucking thing else to use as fucking collateral. And my fucking family, those fucking bastards, refused to fucking help me out the last fucking time. They aren't going to fucking help me this fucking time. I'm not fucking going to fucking jail again."

"So what will you do? Shoot me with that gun you're holding?" I could sense Hal standing straighter hearing that Kenchiro had a gun trained on me.

"Yeah. Unless you fucking leave now."

"Sorry, I can't leave." Kenchiro ratcheted the shotgun and pointed at me again.

"Do you have your fucking partner here again?" he asked.

"Yes", I replied.

"Fuck. Then we are going to fucking walk nice and fucking slow out to my fucking truck. I am going to fucking hold you fucking hostage, driving you away in my fucking truck with me. And when we have fucking lost your fucking partner I am going to fucking shove you out of the fucking truck and keep going. Your fucking partner can fucking pick you up. I'm going to keep fucking going and never fucking come back."

He grabbed a duffle bag and hefted it up on one shoulder, never losing sight of me with his gun. He motioned me to proceed him through the door. I walked backwards, looking him in the eye and pretending to be cool about the whole scene, my heart pumping a million miles a minute. I started hyperventilating and black dots danced in front of my eyes. Kenchiro called out to Hal to throw his gun on the ground and come out in view. "The fucking safety is off, the fucking gun is primed", he said, "and I have nothing to fucking lose by fucking shooting her." There was a pause. I heard Hal's gun hit the ground and glanced over my shoulder to see Hal, white-faced, standing behind me. Kenchiro motioned to me to keep going. I moved back further, forcing Hal down the steps before me. When I got to the top of the steps I turned away from Kenchiro and around to face Hal. Kenchiro followed me in a line, gun trained on my back the whole time.

We got to the bottom of the steps. "Fucking continue to fucking walk in front of us," Kenchiro told Hal, "and fucking walk over to my fucking truck."

"Now, fucking stand to the fucking side in front of me", he said to Hal when we got there. "And you," he said to me, "fucking get in the driver's fucking door and slide the fuck over." I didn't see I had much choice. I opened the driver's door and pretended to stumble, quickly reaching over and shutting the driver's door behind me as I scrambled up into the cab. Kenchiro was surprised by my quick movement to shut the door. He had been standing close behind me and the door swinging shut hit the tip of the shotgun, moving it away from aiming for me towards aiming at the back of the truck. Hal jumped Kenchiro, causing the gun to go off as Kenchiro was knocked back against the truck. Kenchiro's body fell on top of the shotgun, Hal's body fell on top of Kenchiro and Hal's head smashed into the side of the truck on the way down to the ground. Kenchiro groaned under Hal's weight. Hal didn't move. He had knocked himself out.

I got out of the truck on the passenger side door and ran to pick up Hal's gun. I ran back to the driver's side of the truck. Kenchiro was struggling to get out from underneath Hal. Hal still wasn't moving. "Put your hands out at your sides", I yelled out. I removed my cuffs from my back pocket and snapped one of the cuffs in place.

Hal started to groan and move. "Sit up slowly," I said to Hal "and move to your right so I can keep the gun on Kenchiro." Then I said to Kenchiro "I will happily shoot you if you try to get away." I was bluffing. I hate shooting people but I wasn't about to tell Kenchiro that. I tried to look fierce rather than terrified like I was actually feeling. I held the gun on Kenchiro. Hal sat up slowly, leaning against the truck as he waited for his vision to clear. I yelled at Kenchiro to roll over. Mumbling he thought he broke his back, he rolled over face down on the ground and I snapped the cuffs in place. I looked at Hal. He had a cut on his forehead bleeding down his face and his eyes did not look like he was focussing properly. Telling him I would be back, I hauled Kenchiro up and walked him, still at gunpoint, to our car. I picked up the shackles we had left on the floor in the backseat the day before and chained him to the floor bolts. I then got out the first aid box from the trunk. I went back to Hal. He was still dizzy and having trouble clearing his head. I crouched down to clean up his cut and put on some gauze. When he asked how bad the cut was I said "I think it will need stitches and I think you have a concussion. Do you need an EMT truck?" He shook his head no, turned white from the movement, leaned over to his side and threw up. I went and got him a bottle of water from the car. He took a sip. Using a combination of all my strength and weight, as well as pure determination on his part, we got him into a standing position. He felt his way around Kenchiro's truck, throwing up once more as we weaved and stumbled our way to our vehicle. I helped Hal into the passenger seat, took off my vest and put away Hal's gun and the other paraphernalia and prepared to phone Ranger. Hal leaned his head back in the car and closed his eyes, whispering something about Ranger killing him. Hitting speed dial, I looked worriedly at Hal. He didn't look too good.

I started to shake. "Babe", answered Ranger.

"You know how you sent Hal out to look after me?"

"Yes."

"He's been doing a good job. He fended off one of my skips a few minutes ago, who was trying to shoot me." I paused as I tried not to cry, my voice shaking as I spoke.

"I'm listening."

"The only problem is he gave himself a bad concussion while he was watching out for me. I'm just about to take him to the hospital, but I think Hal will have to stay overnight. We are in The Pines right now and I need to meet someone so Hal can be admitted. Can you meet us there?" I focused on breathing in and out for a couple of breaths.

"It will take you about half an hour to get to the hospital from there. We will be at the hospital in twenty minutes. I will bring someone to replace Hal. How are you doing?"

"Better than Hal. See you in a half an hour."

It actually took us longer than half an hour. I had to stop twice more for Hal to throw up along the way.

I met up with Ranger and Tank at the hospital. Ranger enfolded me in a hug. "Thank God you're safe." He took a deep breath. "Tank will admit Hal", Ranger said, "and I will accompany you to the police station. I want to know exactly what happened."

Tank helped Hal out of the car and I ran to get a wheelchair. Once Hal was settled, I gave him a hug and thanked him for protecting me. He gave me a faint lop-sided smile before Tank wheeled him into Emergency.

I got in the passenger seat of the car and handed the keys to Ranger. "So," he said, "what happened out there?" I gave him a brief synopsis as he drove the short distance to the police station. When I got to the part where Kenchiro held a gun to me, Ranger's hands tightened slightly on the wheel. When I got to the part where Hal tackled Kenchiro, Ranger smiled. "I think I will have to give Hal danger pay", he said.

"He's worried you will be mad at him", I said.

"Why would I be mad at him? He did exactly what he was supposed to do – protect you. Unfortunately he got hurt while doing it. But the important thing is you didn't get hurt and that is exactly why he was there." It didn't make me feel good Hal got hurt so I wouldn't. It gave me an icky feeling in my stomach. I hated this and I just wanted to catch Mario soon.

Ranger parked the car at the police station. Getting out of the car, he opened the doors to the back seat and removed the shackles from the floor bolts. He helped Kenchiro out from the car before slamming him into the side of the car and punching him in the kidneys. "That's for holding a gun on Stephanie", he said. Ranger waited until Kenchiro righted himself, then slammed him into the side of the car and punched him again. "And that is for hurting my staff." He walked him into the police station, Kenchiro hunched over the whole time. "He has a stomach ache", Ranger told the docket officer. I got my body receipt and we walked back to the car.

"Feel better?" I asked.

"Marginally", he answered.


	21. Chapter 21

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 14

**Chapter Twenty-One**

"What now?" Ranger asked.

"Lunch. I'd better head back into the office to get my cheques for Kenchiro and Kimmel and deposit them in the bank. And I need to tell Morelli what happened."

"Why don't we meet Morelli in half an hour at Pino's?" Ranger suggested.

I phoned Morelli, who agreed to meet us at the restaurant. Ranger and I were there first, heading to a booth in the back. Ranger took a seat with a good view of the entire restaurant. I sat across from him. Morelli arrived shortly after us. He came over to give me a hug, blanching at the blood he saw on my shirt. "Not mine", I said quickly. Morelli sat down beside me.

"Whose?" Morelli had his cop eyes focused on me, scanning my body, assessing to make sure I was alright.

"Hal's", I said.

"Tell me."

I went over what happened again. Morelli went pale when I got to the part where Kenchiro moved me at gunpoint to his truck. And he went even whiter when I told him Kenchiro tried to shoot me and would have if only the door hadn't redirected the aim of the shot. Dazed, he said "I have a girlfriend who foils kidnapping attempts."

"Isn't that a good thing?" I said. I quickly told him the rest, telling him about how Hal was a hero and had tackled Kenchiro and about Hal's subsequent injury. And I told him Kenchiro was now in custody again. He nodded quickly. He still wasn't happy. We paused in our talking to order. Ranger ordered a Greek salad, dressing on the side, hold the olives. I ordered a Caesar salad with grilled chicken and extra croutons and Joe ordered a meatball sub.

Ranger began to talk. "With Hal out, I am now down a man. I have a meeting I have to go to this afternoon, but after that I can free up my schedule and will handle Stephanie's detail myself. I don't have anyone to handle this afternoon though. Can you protect Stephanie this afternoon? Alternatively, I can lock her in my apartment until I am finished my meeting."

"What were you hoping to do this afternoon?" Morelli asked me.

"I was hoping to go into the office to pick up my cheques for the Kimmel and Kenchiro captures, drop them off at the bank and then head to my apartment to try to clean up the place a bit more."

"I can do that. I want to check out your apartment anyway to see if there are any more threats there. I have some overtime coming to me. Just let me phone it in so my department knows I am off duty this afternoon."

Morelli and I parked in the lot as close to the building as we could get. We looked up at my apartment. The windows looked whole and in one piece. Taking this as a good sign, we took the elevator up to the second floor. My door looked like it was locked. Another good sign. Morelli motioned me to the side, unlocked the door and opened it. Gun drawn, he entered the apartment and searched the place, paying particular attention to the closets, under the bed and behind the shower curtain. Announcing it was clear, he walked back to meet me at the door. I came in and shut the door, Morelli reaching around behind me and locking it. "You know," he said, "we have some time to ourselves without a protection detail guarding you. Maybe we could use that time constructively" and he gave me a kiss and added some tongue. His hands came up under my shirt and stroked the undersides of my breasts and I felt a warm pull that extended down to the tips of my toes. "Race you to the bedroom?" I suggested.

Feeling much more relaxed, Joe and I worked together to pile the broken furniture near the front door. We each took a pile of trash and headed down to the dumpster. Morelli was just about to put his pile in the bin when we heard shots. Joe dropped his load on the ground, crying out and grabbing his upper arm. In a time period which felt like eternity but was probably only a few milliseconds long, I froze, staring at him in horror. Joe dropped to the ground, reached up and pulled me down with him. Blood seeped through his sleeve. Bullets continued to ping off and around the dumpster, one hitting me in my calf. "I've been shot", I cried. Morelli dragged me around to the back of the dumpster, out of the path of the bullets. He took out his gun and laid it in his lap. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and called dispatch. The bullets stopped hitting the dumpster. And then, sitting beside me in the calm after the storm, Morelli called Ranger.

Carl Constanza and Big Dog were the first responders. They arrived before the EMT trucks, working to seal off the scene before it was contaminated by the seniors who had all come out to see what the commotion was. Ranger was the next person to arrive, running past the cop car to get to Morelli and me. Morelli was sitting beside me on the ground, applying pressure to his arm. I had reached down and was applying pressure to my leg. We could hear the sounds of the ambulances trying to work their way down the street. Flashing lights were surrounding us in a scene that felt far removed from reality.

Ranger pulled out his knife and cut my pants up to my knee. "This will need surgery, Babe. The bullet is still in there." He cut open Morelli's sleeve. "Yours is a through shot and it doesn't appear to have hit anything major. I don't know if you will need surgery or not." He took over the job of applying pressure on my leg, apologizing when I cried out in pain. "I'm sorry, Babe," he said, white-faced, "but I have to do it."

The EMT truck arrived and pushed Ranger to the side. Within minutes I was separated from Morelli and loaded up in the truck. Ranger came with me in the ambulance, sitting with me and holding my hand as we sped towards the hospital. My last sight before I went into surgery was of Ranger, looking tortured as he watched them wheel me away.

When I woke Ranger was beside me. It registered that he was there before I fell back to sleep again. When I woke again, Ranger was still there. His body language was relaxed, but one look at tightness around his eyes and I knew he was upset. "What time is it?" I rasped out. Ranger held a cup of ice chips out to me and waited until I had some before he answered.

"It's still Friday, but it's late."

"Joe?" I asked.

"Morelli is fine. He just needed stitches to patch him up and he'll soon be back at work. He's more furious than anything else."

"Where is he?" I asked.

"He's still doing his cop thing and talking to the police."

"Have you been here the whole time?"

"As long as they let me. Morelli pulled some strings, saying you were still in danger and could get shot again. So they let me stay for protection."

"Will I be here long? I want to go home."

"Already? You haven't even tasted the food yet." I grimaced at him. "You had a bad hit, chipping the bone. How does your leg feel?" he asked.

"Numb", I answered.

"You're still on happy juice." He nodded at the IV. "Live it up on the pain meds, Babe. It won't be numb forever."

"Thanks, I think. What happens now?"

"Now you rest. I will stay beside you until they release you from the hospital in a day or two. If I'm not here beside you, Morelli or one of my staff will be here. I have asked that you be placed in the same room as Hal once you come out of recovery and then you will have additional support through him until he's released tomorrow. With Hal in the room you will be doubly protected in case Mario decides to come and finish the job. When you are ready to go home we will have to talk about where you will go. If you go to Morelli's house I will want to sleep on the couch until Mario is caught. My preference, however, is that you come back to my place, although I don't think that will fly with Morelli. He will be just as protective of you as I am and will want to see you every day so he knows you are okay.

"It worries me," he continued, "that we haven't caught this guy. We have a number of people on the streets and we haven't caught his scent. Someone must be hiding him and I don't know who it is." His frustration and anger were palpable.

"Maybe he will come out of the woodwork to finish the job", I offered.

"I don't know whether I want him to, to give us a chance to capture him, or whether I don't want him to, as if he comes after you there is a chance you could get hurt further." He paused. He didn't say the potential for me to be killed was also there. "Just to warn you, Morelli called your parents and grandmother. When they put you in a room in a few minutes you will have to deal with them."

"Oh, great. Don't leave me alone with them, okay? And tell my grandmother she can't have the bullet."

I was released from the hospital two days later. I was glad. I was tired of eating liquid meals and I wanted a real dessert rather than gelatin. What is gelatin made of, anyway? And they kept giving me the green kind. Who eats the green kind? Nobody eats the green kind. Everybody knows people only eat strawberry and maybe orange.

I insisted on going back to Morelli's house, despite the difficulty in getting up the stairs. Morelli was obviously blaming himself on me getting shot and I didn't think it would help our relationship if I didn't trust myself into his protection.

Ranger moved in, sleeping on the couch in the living room. He brought a coconut cream pie for me for dinner the day I came home and a tuna pasta casserole for Joe and himself. Joe brought me a dozen doughnuts. Do my men know me or what? I ate some of both for dinner, ignoring the tension in the room as Joe and Ranger ate their dinner, heads down and not looking at each other. Joe was blaming himself for my leg and that he didn't suspect we would get shot at. Ranger was blaming himself for my leg and that he had chosen to go to a meeting rather than do protection detail for me. It was ridiculous. They were both eating themselves up in guilt.

I stopped eating my dessert dinner. "Stop it", I demanded. They both looked up at me in surprise. "It's no one's fault other than the shooter's. It's not yours, Joe and it's not yours, Ranger. I guess you could say it could be mine, since I refused to go into a safe house. But I will not accept that. It is only the shooter's fault, whether that person is Mario or someone else.

"And I will not let anyone tell you otherwise, including yourselves." I was on a roll. I wanted to say more while I had their attention, but their faces were so shocked I started to smile instead. They looked like I had just hit them with a two by four.

"Now, what I really want to do is to review the case with you, starting from the beginning. However, I will be a good girl, take my pain pills and go to bed and rest, just like the doctor told me. Just because I know both of you are worried. And because I am done for the day. But tomorrow, tomorrow we will talk." I got awkwardly to my feet, limping painfully towards the kitchen to put away the rest of my dinner. I took out a glass of water and took a pain pill and finished up in the bathroom. I walked towards the stairs and sighed as I looked to the top. Ranger and Joe jumped up. They each took a step closer to me. Joe jostled his arm against the wall and let out an involuntary grunt. Ranger looked at him, then looked at me.

"That's okay, I've got her", Ranger said. He picked me up and carried me up to Joe's room and gently laid me down on the bed, pulling the blankets up and over me as he did so. He gave me a light kiss on the lips and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

I had a terrible sleep. I kept hitting my leg against Joe's and the pain would wake me up. He kept hitting his arm against mine; his resulting swearing would also wake me up. Joe moved into the guest bedroom around three in the morning and I finally got some sleep.

The next day dawned bright and cool. Ranger brought me a cup of coffee in bed. "Joe has gone to work, Babe" he said. "He is on desk duty, so he might be in a grouchy mood tonight, just to warn you." I smiled. I know how much Joe hates desk duty. "Lula is coming over here in an hour, also just to warn you. Do you need any help getting ready?"

"Nope. Just if you could change the bandages for me." Ranger helped me out of bed and grabbed some of my clothes from the laundry hamper I had brought home from my parents. He helped me into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I brushed my teeth and grabbed a washcloth, giving myself a sponge bath. Putting clean underwear and a top on, I called down to Ranger to tell him that I was ready and he came up to change my bandages.

"Looking good, Babe. No sign of infection." Thank heaven for small miracles, I thought. I put my hair up into a ponytail and with Ranger's help put on a pair of sweatpants. He helped me down the stairs. I went to my cell phone and called Lula.

"I need help", I said. "I need some dry shampoo. I can't get my leg wet and I need to wash my hair. Do you mind getting me some on the way?"

"Shee-it, girl. There's no problem getting the shampoo. Is there anything else you would like?"

"Nope, thanks. It's just that I'm living with two hot guys right now and I can't wash my hair. How is a person supposed to cope with that?"

"I hear you, girlfriend."

Lula promised to be over right away. Ranger let her in when she got there, going into the kitchen to work on some paperwork while we talked. Bob ran up to her, sniffing her crotch. "Uh-uh, I don't do that stuff no more", she said, pushing Bob aside. "And when I did I used to get paid for it."

Lula came bearing gifts. She had three gossip magazines, a dozen doughnuts, a two-litre bottle of cola, a package of licorice, a bag of gummy bears and a bottle of dry shampoo. "Just bringing some essentials over for you", she said.

I asked Lula for the gossip around the office.

"Vinnie is going nuts since Mario hasn't been found yet. He doesn't trust his luck – there haven't been any more blackmail threats though. And the blackmail threats didn't curtail his extra-curricular activities. Yesterday he invited Joyce in for a nooner. We could hear her spanking him and yelling "yippee-ki-yi-ay" all the way from the front of the office."

"Connie has two new files for you. New ones, you know, ones we haven't chased before. Low-level bonds. Kenchiro wasn't bonded out by Vinnie again. Kenchiro tried, but Vinnie thought Ranger would kill him if he was bonded out again. Vinnie said to remind you, in addition to Mario, you still have two outstanding skips and he wants to know whether he should hand them over to Joyce, as well as the new skips, while you are down and out."

"Thanks. There is no way in hell I'm giving them to Joyce. I'll be back soon. They can wait."

"Okay, I'll tell him that." Lula stayed another half an hour, eating eight doughnuts, three-quarters of a package of licorice and half a bag of gummy bears.

"You be careful", she said as she left for the office. "The eye seems to be really powerful this time."

Once she left I went to my messenger bag and pulled out the file of outstanding skips. Besides Mario, I had two left. Dorothea Pringle and Roberto Mendez. And now I was unable move around easily, I wasn't sure how I would catch them. I would have to figure out a way. Because I sure as hell wouldn't give them to Joyce.


	22. Chapter 22

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 10

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Ranger came back into the room. "How about we go after a couple of skips," I suggested.

"How about we don't", Ranger immediately responded. I got up off the couch, wincing and turning white as I did so. "How about you take a pain pill and then grab some sleep", Ranger suggested.

"I just need to breathe through it. I hate the pain pills because they make me so sleepy. And it's hard to be aware of what is going on around you when you are asleep", I complained.

"That is why I am here, Babe, to guard your back. And sleep will help in the healing process. Being in pain won't help you at all."

"Going after skips while I have your help will also help me. It will make sure I have rent money to tide me over until I can catch skips on my own. One of the three left over – Dorothea Pringle – is a high level bond. Hal and I have already tried twice to get her, but Hal spent more time protecting me than he did trying to catch her and we lost her both times."

"That's what he was getting paid for, Babe."

"Yeah, but it meant I lost my skip. And it means I don't have enough money to tide me over until I am better. You won't be around forever, you have your own job to do. And until I am better I will need your expertise to pick up these people." I thought I made a good argument. As much as my leg hurt and the pain pills made me sleepy, I had an ulterior motive. I was getting cabin fever and needed to get out of the house.

"I will help you catch skips until you are better, even if we have caught Mario", he replied.

"Vinnie will give my files to Joyce if I don't bring these skips in soon."

Ranger thought for a moment. "Okay, I guess I will help you today. But there are conditions. First you have to take a pain pill and have a nap. Then, if you still feel up to going, I will take you."

Good deal.

After my nap and some lunch we decided to tackle Dorothea Pringle. We drove to the Pringle house, but there weren't any cars there. I hobbled up to the front door, accompanied by Ranger. We rang the doorbell but no one answered. The neighbour came out to move her trash to the curb and saw us waiting at the front door. "The Pringles aren't there", she said. "I think the gentleman is at work and Dorothea went out shopping." Thank God for nosy neighbours, I thought. Ranger and I returned to the car to wait.

I called Morelli to let him know where I was. He wasn't happy. "Are you sure you are with Ranger, that you didn't sneak off with Lula?"

"Yes, I'm with Ranger", I answered. I explained to him the rationale behind catching skips right now, it would buy me some time to heal when I didn't have Ranger with me.

"I know the real reason is because you were getting cabin fever. Don't try to lie to me, I know you too well." I smiled. He did know me well.

"Yeah, but needing the money to heal is a real reason, too."

"Okay. I'm not happy, but okay. Let me talk to Ranger." Morelli spoke with Ranger for a couple of minutes. Ranger didn't say much. He just listened, said yes a couple of times, tilted up his lips into an almost-imperceptible smile and then handed the phone back to me. "Make sure you stay with Ranger at all times, okay?" Morelli said. "I may think he's dangerous but he won't see you get hurt in any way if he can help it."

Ranger and I continued to wait. I phoned my parents' house and talked to my grandmother. My mom was out grocery shopping.

"I just got back from the Cut and Curl and you were the talk of the hour", she said.

Oh goody, I thought.

"I told them I saw the wound at the hospital. And I told them you almost died."

"I didn't almost die. I didn't even get close to dying. Don't go telling people that!"

"Well, we talked so much my style wasn't done by the time your mother came to pick me up. I got a purple rinse this time, to match my new purple dress. Although it looks very purple. I would say it is almost lavender, my hair. Isn't that something? I saw a singer the other day on TV who had lavender hair, so I guess I am in fashion now."

I didn't have the heart to tell her it doesn't matter how many singers she saw with purple hair, it wouldn't look fashionable on a seventy-year old woman. But who am I to judge – she's happy, right?

"Has mom finished her ironing yet?" I asked.

"Nope. She's ironed everything twice, even our underwear. You don't have more clothes for us to wash, do you? She will singe our clothes if she irons them one more time. She spent two hours on the same shirt yesterday."

I promised to bring over a load of clothes soon and hung up.

I then pulled out the three trashy magazines, opened up the first one and started to read. Ranger took three calls, the longest one lasting no more than two minutes. He spoke little and just listened. He was not happy.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"We are still having problems finding Mario. If it wasn't for the threats tying the shooting to the blackmail and if it wasn't for the recent shooting, I would think he had flown the coop. But my instinct is saying he is still around. And it is driving me nuts that I can't get to him."

A couple of hours later I had to tinkle. We abandoned our post and headed for a coffee shop. I went to the bathroom while Ranger bought us coffees and bran muffin for me and a strawberry yogurt parfait for himself. I looked at the muffin in dismay. "Doughnuts will kill you" he said, reading my mind.

"But doughnuts are happy food. And it's better to die happy."

"Eat your muffin. You will like that, too. And it's better not to die at all."

We headed back to our post. Three magazines, one nap and several hours later we were rewarded with Dorothea's car arriving back home. Dorothea got out of her car, removing several mall bags from the trunk. Ranger and I approached her as she was unlocking her front door.

"Ms. Pringle?" Ranger asked. "We are your bond enforcement agents and we are here to take you back to court to reschedule."

Dorothea turned around from the door. "I don't want to go back to jail." She shoved her bags at me, making me lose my balance and fall to the ground on my sore leg. She dropped her bags and ran for the car. Ranger looked down at my white face as I held my leg and he reached out and snagged Dorothea as she brushed by him. He held her by the waist as she flailed around trying to get away. He gave her a little shake. "I am going to cuff you, put you in the car and then come back to help my partner. You won't try to escape, do you understand me?" He waited until she nodded her head yes. "Good." He held her arm with one hand and cuffed her with the other before putting her in the backseat of the car, shackling her to the floor bolts. He ran back to me. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I will be," and I leaned over and threw up. "She kicked me by mistake on the way past me", I explained.

"Babe."

He put the bags into the house, looking at the receipts in the bags as he did so. "These bags are all charged to Adele Stephenson", he said. "I think she has been stealing identities again." He locked the door and pocketed the keys to the house, then helped me up off the ground. When I started to limp towards the car, leaning heavily on his waist for support, he reached down and picked me up. He put me in the passenger seat and swung my body around so he could roll up my pant leg to look at the wound. "It's bleeding again, but it doesn't look like there is any further damage. Do you want to go to the hospital to get it looked at?" I said no. He went to the back of the car and pulled out the first aid box. "Getting low on gauze", he said. He fashioned a new bandage and applied it to the wound, taping it on securely. He then got in the car and drove to the police station. I waited in the car while Ranger retrieved my body receipt and told the police about the new identity Pringle had stolen.

"Now, about Mendez…" I started when he got back in the car.

"Oh no. No way. You have had enough excitement for one day. Now we will swing by Rangeman so Ella can bring dinner down to us. Then we will go back to Morelli's house and you can take one of your pain pills. Your face is still completely white. Then we will have dinner and after dinner you will call it a night. We will worry about Mendez tomorrow."

Fine by me. My leg hurt a whole lot.

We picked up another one of Ella's delicious dinners, this time a Mexican turkey layered casserole and a salad. Ella also brought down more gauze for the first aid kit as well as a change of clothes for Ranger. We headed back to Morelli's house. Morelli beat us home. He turned white when Ranger insisted on carrying me into the house. "What have you done now?" he questioned in horror as Ranger deposited me on the couch before quietly getting me a pain pill and a glass of water.

Ranger came back into the room and calmly told him what happened. Joe turned red in anger, stomped around in a circle, flapped his arms and muttered to himself. "I knew this wouldn't turn out well. Not from any fault of yours, but just because disaster follows Stephanie around", he said to Ranger. He went and grabbed the bottle of Rolaids off the table and shook two into his hand. He threw them into his mouth and chewed them. He stomped off into the kitchen to get plates and cutlery for dinner and brought them into the living room. He went back and threw some dog crunchies in a bowl for Bob and refilled his water dish.

When dinner was served and we each had a plate balanced on our knees, I said "Can we talk about Mario now? Maybe it would be a good idea to review everything, to see if we can come up with a new angle."

"NO!" shouted Morelli. "I am just barely holding my temper right now. I can't handle talking about Mario, too. Give it a rest, Cupcake." He added more gently "that pain pill is hitting you – I can see you fading. Go to bed. We'll talk about him tomorrow."


	23. Chapter 23

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 14

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

I had a good sleep and woke up feeling refreshed. Joe had already walked the dog and gone to work by the time I got up. My leg wasn't quite as painful as it was the day before and I could get on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt by myself. I could also, gingerly, handle the stairs myself. I hobbled downstairs, poured myself a coffee and put a raisin in Rex's cage. Ranger came through from the living room with Bob following dotingly behind, Ranger asking me how I was feeling.

"Better, I think. I don't need a pain pill and can get by on over-the-counter pain meds, so I think that's a good sign. No more falling asleep all the time", I replied.

"Good."

"Can you rebandage me?" When Ranger nodded yes and went to get the gauze I said "now about Mendez…"

Ranger sighed. "As I said before, I promise I will help you capture these guys even after Mario has been caught, you know. You don't have to do all the captures now."

"I know. But I'm going nuts. There is only so much reality TV I can watch and I don't have any patience for talk shows. The news is depressing and soaps are fake. I can't move around easily and you wouldn't let me walk the dog anyway. I don't have any good books and I've read all my magazines Lula brought. I'm bored. Going after Mendez isn't boring. It's doing something. Even surveillance is doing something." Bob put his head on my knee in commiseration.

"I have another idea. Why don't we visit your parents and grandmother? They called while you were in the bathroom and asked us to lunch. After lunch, depending upon how your leg is feeling, we can go after Mendez." That was a good deal for me. A free lunch, a chance to show my family I was okay and help with Mendez.

We took my laundry home with us. We met my grandmother at the door, Ranger holding the laundry basket. "Thank goodness," she said, "I am running out of underwear for your mom to iron. I'll do your laundry this afternoon." I gave her a hug and kiss and came in the house. I limped into the kitchen and gave my mom a hug and kiss as well.

Lunch with Mom and Grandma consisted of fresh ciabatta buns from the bakery, sliced ham and roast beef and sliced provolone and Havarti from Giovichinni's, sliced tomato and lettuce, mayonnaise and mustard, tubs of macaroni and potato salads and an Entemann's cake. Coffee and glasses of water accompanied the meal. We all sat around the table, Ranger and I sitting opposite Mom and Grandma, and helped ourselves.

"I have a daughter who gets shot", my mother said. "Why can't you get a nice job, like as a crossing guard or a bank teller? Your sister works as an assistant to a lawyer. Why do you have to work as a bounty hunter? Remember when you had that good job buying lingerie for that department store? You never got shot at then. Why me? Why do I have to have a daughter who gets shot?" She looked towards the cupboard that held the whiskey, shook her head, looked resignedly at the table and started eating her lunch.

"I got let go from the department store, remember? And the job wasn't that good. People got the wrong idea when I told them I worked in the lingerie department. Besides, I like being a bounty hunter. It's not like I get hurt all the time."

My mom gave a half-choked out sob. "You've been shot twice in the last couple of weeks!"

"Yeah, it's been a tough couple of weeks. But this isn't the norm."

Mom just shook her head. "I'm just afraid one day I will get a call from Joe and instead of telling me you're in surgery to dig out a bullet he will tell me you are dead. And I'm having a huge problem with that." She changed her mind about having some whiskey and helped herself to a couple of fingers. She knocked it back and poured a couple more.

"Why don't you get married? You could have a couple of kids, a nice life. You wouldn't need to have a job then. And I would get more grandchildren." My mom was starting to glow. I wasn't sure if it was the thought of more grandchildren or the impact of the whiskey. Mom turned to Ranger. "Don't you think she should get married? She could marry you. Joe certainly doesn't seem to be offering for her."

"Something for me to think about, Mrs. Plum", Ranger said. "It's not good to rush into these things though."

"Rush into it! She's in her early thirties! Her clock will start ticking soon. You have to marry her soon!"

Ranger smiled. "I'll consider it."

We finished our lunch soon after and I told my mother and grandmother we had to go. I wanted to get out of there before my mom invited the priest to come and perform the wedding rites that afternoon. As we left, all I could think about was apparently my mom hadn't ironed enough.

After lunch Ranger and I suited up wearing our utility belts complete with stun guns and cuffs. Mine also had pepper spray. Ranger's also had a gun. We drove past the Mendez house. The house looked deserted. We parked in front of the house and walked up to the front door to ring the doorbell, but no one answered. We looked in the windows, but did not see anyone. It didn't appear anything had been disturbed from the last time I was there. No cereal bowls in the sink, no shoes left out near the door, no wrinkles in the toss pillows on the couch. No sign of life at all.

We drove to the button factory. Going inside, we asked to speak to the office manager. The office manager had been away the first time I went to the button factory, but we were lucky and she was now in. We introduced ourselves and explained we were there to reschedule Roberto's court date. The office manager was very helpful. She looked on her computer. "Roberto has been working a lot of double shifts lately. More than is usual for someone to work. He was scheduled to finish work an hour ago, so I doubt you will catch him now. But since our company Hallowe'en party is tonight, you could catch him there. It is being held in the company cafeteria and it starts at seven o'clock. If you don't catch him then, he is scheduled to start work again at seven o'clock in the morning tomorrow." We thanked her and left.

"Do you have to do anything now?" I asked.

"Nope. I'm all yours for the next hour. Where to now?" he asked.

"I'm thinking we should talk to Roberto's son, Hector. He's the only family member I didn't speak to the other day." Ranger turned on the car and drove over to Hector's house. We parked on the street in front of Hector's house. We sat and assessed the neighbourhood. It was quiet, no sign of life. We went up to the front door and knocked on it. Ranger peeped in the windows while I waited at the door. I was just about to leave when Ranger came walking around the side of the house. "Ring the doorbell again. A guy just got out of the shower."

I rang the doorbell again. A few minutes later I heard the door open. An overweight, short man stood there. He had black hair and looked like a younger carbon copy of his dad. His hair was wet from the shower and, judging by the wet spots on his t-shirt, he didn't have time to fully dry off before he donned his clothes. I apologized for intruding and introduced myself. "I'm Stephanie Plum and I represent your dad's bail bonds company. I'm here because your dad missed his court date and he needs to come back in to reschedule. I'm looking for him. I'd like to talk to him."

"I remember you now," Hector replied. "You are the person who was at that murderer's trial, who tried to talk to us after the trial. We didn't want to speak to you then and we don't want to speak to you now. My dad has a plan and it doesn't involve going to jail right now. "

"You do realize your dad will get off lightly, don't you? The police think he will only get community time. Nobody wanted to charge him. No one wants to convict him. Even the media likes him. Hell, I don't even want to bring him in. But it's my job, so I have to do this. I really need to talk to him." I handed him my card. "Can you please get him to call me?" I got him to agree to talk to his dad and we left with Hector watching us go.

Ranger and I went back to Rangeman so Ranger could do some computer work for a new client. He told me I was limping a lot and I was looking pretty white again and I should take another pain pill before the pain got worse. He stood and waited, making sure I took the medication, then headed for his office; I headed up to Ranger's apartment for a nap. A couple of hours later Ranger came up and woke me, saying it was time to take some dinner to Morelli. Ranger picked out some clean clothes and put them in a bag and grabbed Ella's latest dinner offering. We walked down to the car, exchanging the Explorer for Ranger's personal vehicle, the Porsche Cayenne. "This will allow the mirror to get replaced", Ranger said. I grimaced. I know from experience Ranger wouldn't let me pay for the repair, even though it was my fault the mirror had been shot in the first place.

We put the clothes and dinner in the trunk and climbed in the vehicle. On the way back to Morelli's house I asked Ranger to swing by the button factory. I wanted to scope out the Hallowe'en party. Getting close to the factory we slowed down and watched the hordes of staff walking towards the building. Suddenly I yelled "STOP!" Ranger slammed on the brakes. By the time he had pulled over to the side of the road I was out of the car, running as fast as my leg would let me. Passing a startled witch, a scarecrow and pushing past a ghost, I caught up to Roberto who was posing as a monk. He looked around at the commotion, at the sounds of my feet hitting the pavement and my grunts from the pain coursing through my leg. I heard Ranger catching up behind me. Recognizing me, Roberto turned around to run. His foot got caught in his robes and he tumbled down to the ground. Unable to stop in time, I tumbled down on top of him, landing on my sore leg. We were a sea of arms and legs, Roberto trying to get free and escape, all the while kicking me in the leg; me trying to roll away in pain. Trying not to throw up, I realized Ranger was standing over Roberto, reaching down and cuffing Mendez. "Bond enforcement", he yelled.

"Babe?" Ranger asked.

"I'm good. Just give me a moment."

"Deep breaths, Babe. In through your nose and out through your mouth."

The need to throw up receded and I was just left with the pain. Ranger helped me up, keeping one hand on Mendez. He put his arm around me and helped me walk back to the car with one arm around my waist while holding Mendez's arm with the other.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, honest! Are you okay?" Mendez said. He was really upset.

"Don't worry about it. She got shot the other day and she is still recovering. She really shouldn't be out and about yet", Ranger said.

I gave Ranger a dirty look and continued breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. We got back to the car and Ranger shackled Mendez to the floor bolt. He apologized to Mendez. "What you did was a good thing. Misguided, but a good thing. I'm sorry we have to take you in, but it's our job. I have to look after Stephanie right now and then we will take you into the station to be bonded out." Ranger got out the first aid kit and his flashlight. He pulled up my yoga pants and checked my wound. "Looks like you tore the stitches this time, Babe. I'll take you back to the hospital after we drop Mendez off." He put fresh gauze on the wound and helped me swing into the car. "You can phone Morelli", he said. "I'm not taking responsibility for this one."

Ranger started the car. "Just out of curiosity," I said to Mendez, "what was the plan your kids were telling us about? They said you had a plan you had to accomplish before you went to jail."

"Oh, I was working double shifts, as many as I could get, at the button factory. I was trying to earn enough money to pay for the vests before I went in front of the judge. I am almost there, too. I just needed a couple of more weeks of double shifts to save enough and then I was planning on going back to the police station and turning myself in."

"You know everyone is trying to give you a lesser sentence, maybe just community hours, right? No one wants you to suffer unduly for what you did and the whole police force is behind you on this one. And don't you also know, now you are getting bonded out again, you will have more time to save enough money to pay back the purchase price of the vests? You should make your goal.

"My boyfriend is a Trenton cop," I continued. "Those vests will save the lives of many of our friends. Thank you."

We arrived at the police station. While Ranger was getting my body receipt, I phoned Vinnie and asked him to come down and bond Roberto out again. And then I phoned Morelli.

"Hi. I just wanted to let you know Ranger and I will be a little late for dinner. We have it in the car, but we will be late."

"Okay, fine. How come?"

"Well, I sort of jumped out of the car and was sort of chasing a skip and I sort of fell and hit my leg. Ranger thinks I may have torn some of the stitches out, so he is taking me into the hospital to get it looked at." There was silence at the end of the phone, followed by a rustling sound. "Are you about to yell? You're not going for your gun, are you?"

"No. I'm looking for my Rolaids."

"Thank God. Take a double helping. We'll see you soon."

"Do you want me to come to the hospital?"

"It's not necessary."

Morelli showed up in Emergency as the doctor was shown into my cubicle. He badged his way in to see me. While the doctor re-sutured the wound, Morelli asked for details about what happened. My leg was feeling numb from the freezing so I was feeling pretty good about the capture. But hearing Ranger's version made me understand why Morelli might be a teensy bit upset.

"It's been a difficult day for both of us. First thing this morning, she refused any pain pills. Then we went to her parents' where her mom and grandmother badgered her about getting married and settling down to have a family. We then went to talk to Roberto Mendez's son and to the office manager at the button factory, where he works. They said he would be at a Hallowe'en costume party tonight. I took her back to Rangeman as she was limping quite badly and her face was completely white. I gave her a pain pill and left her to have a nap. After I had worked on one of my accounts and Ella had finished making our dinner, I woke her up. On the way back to your place we swung by the button factory. She saw Mendez and told me to stop. But before I could get the car stopped she jumped out of the car and ran after Mendez. Mendez tripped and fell and she fell down on top of him. By the time I got to them she had been kicked in the leg a couple of times. I cuffed Mendez and we just delivered him to the police station."

Morelli's ears were turning red in an effort not to yell. "Is this true?" he said to me.

"Basically", I muttered. "It's not like I meant to tear my stitches, though. And I have been looking for Mendez for a while and he was a tough one to find. I couldn't just let him go. I didn't mean for him to fall down, or for me to fall down on him, or even for me to get kicked by him. It just happened."

"It always just happens with you, Cupcake. Why did you, with a hurt leg no less, jump out of a moving car to go after someone?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." And see, that's the problem with me. It always seems like a good idea at the time. Like it was a good idea to jump off my parents' roof to prove I could fly when I was eight. And it was a good idea to play choo-choo by taking off my underpants and making the tunnel for Joe's train to go under when I was six. And it was a good idea to lick the cold metal pole in the middle of winter, pretending I was a reindeer eating a salt lick, when I was four. It's always starts with a good idea.

Joe just shook his head.


	24. Chapter 24 and 25

TWENTY-TWO CALIBER: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 11

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

After we ate our dinner the freezing was starting to come out of my leg and I was feeling pretty sore. Morelli gave me a pain pill and a glass of water. I hobbled down to the bathroom and got ready for bed. I got to the stairs and looked up and sighed. Ranger came over and picked me up and carried me up to Morelli's bed. This damsel-in-distress thing was getting old.

The pain pill knocked me out and I slept fitfully for three or four hours. When I woke, the house was quiet and dark. My leg was killing me. And I needed to tinkle. I got out of bed, trying not to disturb Joe in the spare room or Ranger down below on the couch. I used the facilities and then decided it would be a good idea to go downstairs to get another pain pill from the kitchen. I crept down the stairs as quietly as I could, whispering to Bob it was me so he wouldn't bark, then tried to creep quietly down the hallway and into the kitchen. I turned on the light and ran a glass of water from the tap. I heard a noise behind me. Apologizing for waking him up, I turned around expecting to see Ranger. Instead I was faced with Mario. Mario was pointing a gun at me, blocking my way back to the hall. Bob came charging down the hall and ran over to me, leaning into my leg to have his ears rubbed. As terror surfaced, blood ran from my head and pooled in my feet. Black spots danced before my eyes. My only hope, I thought, is to keep him talking long enough to have Ranger and Morelli wake up. Pretending to be brave, I said "how did you get here?"

"I've been sleeping here at nights", Mario replied. "There is a window in the basement I broke and opened a few days ago. I come in at night, just before you go to bed, when you won't hear the sounds of me getting into the basement. I've been waiting to get to you."

"Why are you threatening me?"

"Because you are ruining everything! All I wanted to do was get some money, so I didn't have to go to jail. In jail, they make you go to the bathroom on a toilet without a toilet seat, in front of everyone. I don't want to do that. And it's not even fair. It's not like I got to keep the TVs. It was just a lark, a drunken lark. I shouldn't have to go to jail for that.

"But I knew if I didn't go to jail," he continued, "Mom could lose her house. And I didn't want that to happen. So I followed Vinnie one night back to his house, intending to ask him for help. Shortly after Vinnie went in the house, Lucille came out. So I waited, trying to get up my nerve to talk to Vinnie. Then, after a couple of minutes of planning out what I would say to him, I saw Joyce Barnhardt drive up. A couple of seconds later I saw Joey Trimble and her dog show up. I knew whatever was happening would be good if Joyce and Vinnie were involved. So I crept up to the windows and what do you think I saw? Joyce and Vinnie and the dog doing things no dog should ever do. So I used my phone and taped it. And I thought, maybe, I could get enough money to pay back the bond. Then I could disappear, I wouldn't have to go to jail and Mom wouldn't lose her house. It was a good plan."

"But then you came along", he said. "You started asking questions. You started sticking your nose into everything."

"Joe asked me to. He was worried about you … What about Tessa and the kids?" I asked.

"Things haven't been good between Tessa and me for a while now. It's not like it used to be. It's not good like it is between Tina and me. I was going to take Tina with me when I disappeared, but I was leaving Tessa behind. I don't want kids – they are snivelling, whining little brats. Tina doesn't want kids. She's the perfect person for me.

"Like you are for Joe. And that's another reason why I was after you. Because of Joe. He was always the golden boy. He was always the example child. All my life: 'Why don't you act more like Joe?' 'Why don't you join the military, like Joe?' 'Why don't you join the police force, like Joe?' 'Why don't you get a job, like Joe?' BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO! After I married Tess and had the kids, the comparisons slackened off. But now I was caught with the TVs, it started again. 'Why can't you be more like Joe?' Well, Joe has the perfect life. And I wanted to take away part of that perfect life, to make him hurt like I have been hurt."

"And then I didn't show up for court. I knew Vinnie would be searching for me and you would be the one asked to come and get me. And you can't come and get me if you are dead. It made doubly-good sense to get rid of you."

"Grandma said she saw you. I was always her favourite grandchild, you know, so she told me lots of stuff. I would call her when I knew my mom would be out shopping and Grandma would tell me how you and Joe were doing. She said she gave you the eye when you first starting asking questions about me, she had done it for me and I knew I had to make the eye real, for Grandma's sake. So Alex and I started leaving threats at your apartment. But you weren't taking the threats seriously, so I shot your car. I had just left when you arrived in that Porsche, so I stayed a few minutes to see your reaction. The explosion was great. And it was even better when I saw some of your hair burnt off. But you still didn't take the threat seriously. So I checked to make sure you weren't at Joe's house one night. When I knew you weren't there, we broke into your apartment to scare you. And what do we find – you're not there! I got really mad and so we trashed your place. Did you like the note we left on the hamster aquarium? Sick, huh?"

"Then I couldn't pick up the blackmail money," he continued. "I followed Joe that morning from the house to the station parking lot and I knew the blackmail threats had been leaked to the cops. So I got mad and the next day I borrowed Tina's mother's car and Alex and I went to the courthouse. We saw Joe outside the courthouse and then we saw you come out. And Alex drove down the street and I tried to shoot you. But it's hard to shoot someone from a moving vehicle, so Alex and I staked out your place. We finally got lucky and saw you go into your apartment on Friday. And we saw you come out. So we shot you. We didn't mean to hit Joe. We just meant to hit you. Joe was a lucky accident."

"So let me get this straight," I asked, "it didn't really matter whether I looked for you or not. I was targeted because I am Joe's girlfriend? You are doing this because of some stupid sibling rivalry?"

"Yes, although you looking for me just made me angrier." Mario sounded angry now. And he was starting to sound a bit desperate.

"So what will you do now? Are you going to shoot me? Are you leaving my body here? Are you taking me with you? How have you planned this out?"

"I will shoot you here. And I will leave your body for Joe to find in the morning."

"Are you leaving a note for him to find so he knows why I was shot?"

"That's a good idea. I'll write a note after I shoot you."

"You may want to write a note beforehand. Joe will hear the shot and come running down the stairs. You won't have time to write the note afterwards." In actuality, I didn't care about the note. I just wanted to give Ranger and Morelli some time to hopefully get into place. "There's paper in the living room", I said. I started to leave Bob's side and move towards Mario, towards the hall, at the same time as Ranger and Morelli moved into the doorway, guns aimed at Mario.

"Drop your weapon", Joe said. "This has gone on long enough. You don't have to hurt Stephanie. This isn't the way to do things, Mario. Put your gun down."

Mario reached forward and grabbed me by my shirt. He threw me in front of himself with one hand and, gun trained on Joe with the other, started to back out from the room. "Put your guns down and I will let her go when I am free", he said. Yeah, right. I heard what he said and knew he wanted to kill me to hurt Joe. And Joe didn't deserve to get hurt. I started to fight. I clawed at the arm holding my chest and stomped down on his instep. I took my foot and kicked back at his knee with enough force to get him to loosen his hold on me. I then turned around in his arms and tried to poke my fingers in his eyes. This diverted him enough that he wasn't paying any attention to his gun hand. Morelli kept his gun trained on Mario while Ranger closed in, removed the gun and cuffed him.

The house swarmed with cops, taking statements from Ranger, Joe and myself. Ranger and Joe had heard everything Mario had told me. Apparently I wasn't as silent coming down the stairs to go to the kitchen as I had thought I was and they both had been on their way to see if I needed help when they heard me start talking. While Joe did his cop thing, Ranger retrieved that long-awaited pain pill and a glass of water for me. "How are you feeling?" he said.

"Shaky. I'm used to thinking my job is dangerous. I'm not exactly comfortable with it, but I'm used to it. So I'm having a hard time getting accustomed to the idea it was my association with Joe that got me targeted rather than my job. And I am also reeling from knowing Grandma Bella was giving information to Mario, that she was helping Mario out in targeting me. I knew she didn't like me, but this is beyond what I had ever thought she would do."

"Yeah, but she wasn't doing it on purpose. I don't think she knew she was helping Mario out by telling him all those things. And I don't think she would purposely try to hurt you, curses aside. Morelli's a good man, Babe. Don't get scared off him because of a silly old woman who loves the drama associated with giving people the eye. You shouldn't pay any attention to her."

The house slowly emptied of police. When everyone was gone Ranger stood up. He leaned over and rubbed Bob behind his ears and under his chin. Bob thumped his tail on the floor and closed his eyes in bliss. "I'm going back to my place tonight. You don't need me around any longer. I will leave my car for you, Babe. I'll catch a ride with Hal – he's waiting outside. Return it when you buy a new one." He came over and gave me a set of keys, kissed me, picked up his stuff and was gone.

"How are you doing?" I asked Morelli.

"I've been better. I put you in danger. I didn't know I was doing it, but I put you in danger. And I may never forgive myself for that."

"Don't worry about it. I put myself in danger all the time."

"I know. And that makes me angry. I hate it when you put yourself in danger. I used to think it was your job, but over time I have started to think it's just you. That danger follows you around. You don't try to get in trouble, but you do. And it doesn't matter. You could leave your job and even be a stay-at-home mother, but danger would still follow you around. I have trouble accepting that. Sometimes I think about what it would be like to have children with you and I wonder how I would cope with having a wife who always gets herself into trouble.

"I've started to think of myself as the safe one. Sure, I am a cop and that's a profession that can be fraught with danger. And I have a wild past. But compared with your life, I'm the safe one. I'm not always falling down and landing in doggy doo-doo."

"Hey, that only happened once!" I interrupted.

"You know what I mean." He paused. Then he said quietly "But this time, this time it was different. This time was my fault." He reached over and pulled me onto his lap, burying his head into my shoulder. "Will you forgive me?"

"There is nothing to forgive. You did nothing wrong. This was all Mario's fault. You didn't tell him to do any of this. And you would have helped him if you could have, if you were given the chance. You know what Ranger said before he left? He said you are a good man. And he is right. You are a good man. And I am proud to have you as my boyfriend." I was rubbing his back and that was giving me ideas. And judging by Morelli's eyes, it was giving him ideas, too. I gave him a kiss and when our tongues touched we decided we should go upstairs. By the time Morelli had helped me to the top of the stairs we had discarded all our clothing.

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

I was once again wearing my court suit, a cream tank top and, in concession to my healing leg, a pair of black flats. I was back at Morelli's house, sharing a pizza with him and Bob. We were talking about Roberto Mendez's trial. "He was judged guilty, just like we knew he would", I said. "But his overtime at the button factory was taken into consideration. He paid back the entire cost of the vests, so the judge said extenuating circumstances were present, that grief played a big part of the theft. When it came to sentencing she said since he had paid back the entire cost of the vests, he could now do what he wanted with them. And she ordered him to go for grief counselling. She didn't give him any jail time and, in fact, didn't even order any community service. Just counselling. I was so happy for him. He honestly seems like a really nice guy."

"Scuttlebutt at the precinct says he is donating the vests to the force. The uniforms are ecstatic. Many of our existing vests already have bullet holes in them."

As we were sitting in the kitchen eating dinner, we heard a car door slam, footsteps on the porch, the front door opening and a "yoo-hoo" being called from the door. "We're in the kitchen", Joe yelled. His mother and grandmother came back to us, carrying a covered dish of lasagne.

"My mother has something she wants to say to you", said Mrs. Morelli.

Grandma Bella looked at me for a moment. "I say you good girl. Joseph good boy. Mario bad boy. I remove curse on you" and she touched her finger to her eye.

"And what else do you need to say to Stephanie?" Mrs. Morelli prompted.

Grandma Bella shifted from one foot to the other and back again. "I'm sorry", she said.

I looked at her with my mouth hanging open. Grandma Bella turned around and hurried back out the front door, leaving Mrs. Morelli to follow behind.

A silence filled the room after the two women left. "I don't think I've ever heard her say that before", Morelli said, amazed. "See, I told you I'm her favourite grandchild!"


End file.
